


Listen

by adorkablephil (kimberly_a)



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Childhood Trauma, Conversion Disorder, Deaf Character, Deaf Phil, M/M, Muteness, Trauma, YouTube, YouTubers - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2018-12-17 20:31:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 31,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11859120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimberly_a/pseuds/adorkablephil
Summary: Phil is a successful YouTuber, and Dan is a fan desperate for attention. Sounds like 2009, right? Except Phil is Deaf.





	1. The Lonely Boy

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve never written an AU before but was inspired by a few different things. The first was an anonymous prompt sent as an Ask on Tumblr, though I’ve diverged dramatically from what was requested. I initially dismissed the idea, thinking, “I don’t do AUs,” but … I’ve been particularly loving [AgingPhangirl](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Madophelia/pseuds/AgingPhangirl)'s phenomenally wonderful AU “[Ships that pass in the night](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11266017)" lately. (Seriously. If you aren't reading it, stop reading this and go read that. It's amazing.) Since I don’t usually even read many AUs, let alone write them, my love for that fic made me question whether I might have a bit of fun dipping my toe into the AU pool. And the final thing that inspired me was Phil's creative early videos, which often included little or no dialogue. The dialogue-free video mentioned in this chapter, “[51 things in my room!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cZzPCm0LViE)” is a real video Phil made in 2008.
> 
> Special thanks to @appreciatedanhowell on Tumblr and the whole Treehouse Mailing List. I've been anxious about posting things publicly for the past few months, so I've been sending my fic out just to them over email, and they've all been really encouraging and supportive of this story especially. I've already written & sent out the first five chapters to those incredibly kind folks, but I'll be posting each chapter here only after they've been edited ... and while I'm still also continuing to write the later chapters. But I expect to be posting updates here at least once a week, with probably about nine chapters total by the end.

Phil watched the video through one final time, just making sure he was happy with the last few edits he’d made, and then emailed the finished product off to Craig for music suggestions. He’d made a couple of videos that were completely silent, but his hearing viewers—and that was most of them—seemed disconcerted by a video with no sound at all.

 _Welcome to my world,_ he thought.

Sometimes he wondered what sound might be like, but honestly it didn’t concern him overly much. He was happy with who he was, and if it meant he occasionally had to ask a hearing friend for advice on choosing music for his videos, well, that wasn’t so hard to do. Craig seemed to enjoy the task, actually, and it gave them a reason to keep in touch after they’d both left for uni. They’d lived on the same street their whole lives, so maintaining some amount of connection to someone who knew him that well was comforting.

He noticed a new comment on last week’s video, “51 things in my room!” and recognized the username: danisnotonfire—a fan he’d seen popping up a lot lately, and in fact this was the second comment he’d left on that particular video, as he’d also commented within an hour of it being originally uploaded. Phil read the new comment:

 **danisnotonfire** 1 minute ago  
Have you listened to the FFVII soundtrack? It’s amazing. No pun intended. xD

Phil remembered that the first comment “danisnotonfire” had left on this particular video was something about hair straighteners, and indeed the icon beside his comments showed a boy with very straight dark hair in a style that resembled Phil’s own.

Phil looked at the icon beside this most recent comment more closely. The boy looked sad, but it didn’t seem like the pretentious emo bleakness that was so popular these days. Something in his face looked genuinely … lonely.

Phil could relate.

And apparently “danisnotonfire” hadn’t caught onto the fact that Phil was Deaf, despite commenting on so many of his videos over the last few months. True, Phil didn’t go out of his way to advertise his Deafness, but neither did he try to hide it—it usually just wasn’t relevant to the types of oddball little films he liked to make for his videos.

He decided to respond to the comment, typing, “I’m not much into music. What do you like about it?”

The boy had apparently still been sitting at his computer, as he responded immediately:

 **danisnotonfire** 1 minute ago  
Interrupted by Fireworks is incredibly beautiful. You should listen to it.

Phil contemplated whether to reply or not. He typed, “I can’t. I’m Deaf.” Then he deleted it. It would just embarrass the kid, make him feel like he’d said something wrong. It might even scare him off, and Phil found himself surprisingly hesitant to say anything that might do that.

He stared at the comment, at the icon, the tiny, slightly blurry photo of a possibly lonely boy with hair like his own.

He thought of this past week, how he’d walked through the halls of the university every day without speaking to a single person because no one here knew how to sign. How the only person who had spoken to him directly was the interpreter who translated his professors’ words for him.

He missed his friends back in Manchester, at the Deaf school where everyone knew how to sign and where the choice not to speak orally was considered perfectly reasonable. Here, both teachers and classmates seemed to expect him not only to read lips but also to vocalize, and while he didn’t bother to sign to them when the interpreter wasn’t present, he saw their facial expressions when he wrote his comments to them on paper instead.

Here, he was weird. A freak.

His only friends were far away. Or strangers on the Internet.

He looked at the photo again, then reread the boy’s two comments, remembered the earlier comment about hair straighteners, remembered that he’d seen the name numerous times not only in video comments but also on Twitter. This “danisnotonfire” clearly wanted to reach out, wanted to find some connection, wanted someone to hear him.

How ironic would it be if a Deaf boy was the one who heard?

Phil quickly typed, “DM me on Twitter. :D” and clicked the blue Reply button before he could lose his nerve.


	2. Talk to Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> DMs and texts and Skype calls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All dates are obviously completely fictionalized, including Dan’s little subscriber count milestone. This is an AU, in case you hadn’t noticed. :)
> 
> Many many thanks to the Treehouse Mailing List for all their support and encouragement!

**danisnotonfire  
** You said to DM you, so here I am. DMing you. This feels weird. Is it weird? I think maybe Im making it weird.  
8 September 2009

**AmazingPhil  
** It’s not weird. Or if it is, that’s cool. I like weird. ;)  
8 September 2009

**danisnotonfire  
** lol  
8 September 2009

**AmazingPhil  
** I was interested in what you were saying about the FFVII soundtrack. Tell me more about why you like the music so much.  
8 September 2009

**danisnotonfire  
** Have you lestined to it?  
8 September 2009

**AmazingPhil  
** No  
8 September 2009

**danisnotonfire  
** But you play the game, right? It ws in your video  
8 September 2009

**AmazingPhil  
** It’s hard to explain, but I play it with the sound off.  
8 September 2009

**danisnotonfire  
**???  
8 September 2009

**AmazingPhil  
** But seriously, I’m interested. Tell me about the music.  
8 September 2009

* * *

Dan’s passion for music inspired Phil to download the song “Interrupted by Fireworks” and play it loud enough that he could feel the tempo by laying his palms flat on the speakers.

After his roommates complained about the noise, he only did it again at times when they weren’t home.

* * *

**AmazingPhil  
** This is going to seem really weird, but I’ve felt awkward about bringing it up.  
27 September 2009

**danisnotonfire  
** I am the king of awkward lol  
27 September 2009

**danisnotonfire  
** Bring what up?  
27 September 2009

**AmazingPhil  
** It’s just, we’ve been talking for weeks, and I haven’t said anything about it.  
27 September 2009

**danisnotonfire  
**???  
27 September 2009

**AmazingPhil  
** Okay, well, I’m Deaf.  
27 September 2009

_[a few minutes pass]_

**danisnotonfire  
** You cant hear?  
27 September 2009

**AmazingPhil  
** Yes, Dan, that’s what Deaf means.  
27 September 2009

**danisnotonfire  
** Hey no need to be a jerk about it. I’m just surprised.  
27 September 2009

**danisnotonfire  
** Why didn’t you ever say anything?  
27 September 2009

**AmazingPhil  
** Well, I thought you would have figured it out from some of my videos and stuff I’ve tweeted, but then when you started talking about music, I just …  
27 September 2009

_[a few minutes pass]_

**danisnotonfire  
** I am such an idiot.  
27 September 2009

**AmazingPhil  
** No you’re not! That’s why I didn’t want to say anything!  
27 September 2009

**danisnotonfire  
** why?  
27 September 2009

**AmazingPhil  
** Because I liked talking to you, and I didn’t want you to be embarrassed or something. Or to maybe think I was a freak or something.  
27 September 2009

_[a few minutes pass]_

**danisnotonfire  
** I dont think your a freak  
27 September 2009

_[a few minutes pass]_

**danisnotonfire  
** the whole reason i started liking your videos was because you dont talk in them  
27 September 2009

**danisnotonfire  
** is that weird?  
27 September 2009

**AmazingPhil  
** Maybe we’re both a little weird. But I don’t mind if you don’t. :)  
27 September 2009

**danisnotonfire  
** xD  
27 September 2009

* * *

One of Phil’s old friends from school had gone all the way to America to attend Gallaudet University, since it was the most highly respected university for the Deaf in the world. She’d had to study ASL in advance, of course, since it was a completely different language than BSL, but she seemed to be really enjoying her studies there. Apparently the sense of Deaf community there was more than she’d even imagined in Manchester. She practically glowed when she talked about her feeling of belonging.

Phil was jealous.

He’d chosen York because of his interest in their graduate program in video postproduction, since he’d loved experimenting with film since childhood, but his isolation as an undergraduate made him wonder how well a Deaf student would be received in the graduate program. Would they even make any accommodation for him in studying what they might perceive as a definitively audio **and** visual medium?

He and Sharon occasionally Skyped when the time difference allowed, but she now sometimes slipped into ASL without noticing, and Phil found himself feeling like even his Deaf friends were slipping away.

* * *

**AmazingPhil  
** Maybe we could Skype sometime? I mean, I can’t talk, obviously, or hear you, but we could at least see each other in real life and not just Dailybooth pics. :]  
2 October 2009

**danisnotonfire  
** How would we talk tho?  
2 October 2009

**AmazingPhil  
** I don’t know. We could write on paper and hold it up or something?  
2 October 2009

_[a few minutes pass]_

**danisnotonfire  
** ok  
2 October 2009

**AmazingPhil  
** Now?  
2 October 2009

**danisnotonfire  
** ok  
2 October 2009

**AmazingPhil  
** YAY!  
2 October 2009

**AmazingPhil  
** See you soon!  
2 October 2009

* * *

Dan seemed cripplingly shy in their first Skype call. He avoided eye contact much of the time, which made communicating rather difficult, but he loosened up a bit by the end and even seemed to flirt a bit.

Phil tried really hard not to develop a crush.

He was not particularly successful.

They exchanged phone numbers and began texting constantly, not to mention the lengthy Skype calls. Dan talked about his own interest in making videos, but gloomily doubted his ability to create anything interesting or worthwhile. Phil urged him to give it a try.

* * *

**15 October 2009**

**Phil:** I think you should upload it. It’s really good. Really!

**Dan:** I don’t now. I’m afraid people will think its kind of weird.

**Phil:** Weird is kind of our thing, though, isn’t it? :p

**Dan:** I just dont want to look stupid or soemething. i mean it kind of sucks

**Phil:** Dan, it’s brilliant. I promise.

**Phil:** I have to ask, though. The subtitle thing. Did you do that because of me?

**Dan:** No. I dont know. Not really. i just liked it. I thought it looked cool.

**Phil:** It DOES look cool. I just didn’t want …

**Dan:** what?

**Phil:** I don’t know. I didn’t want you to be making videos for me like that just because I’m Deaf. I know that sounds stupid. Never mind.

**Dan:** No i now what you mean. That wasn’t why i did it. I told you i first liked your videos becuz you didnt talk in them. So I guess I liked that style, but mine is different. right?

**Phil:** Of course! Your style is completely different from mine! I love the old-time silent movie thing, with the title cards and everything. It’s really unique! That’s why I think it’s so brilliant!

**Phil:** That’s why you should definitely upload it.

**Dan:** really?

**Phil:** Absolutely!

_[a few minutes pass]_

**Dan:** ok

**Dan:** maybe tmorrow

* * *

When Dan uploaded his first video, Phil tweeted about it enthusiastically to encourage his own online friends and fans to check it out, and unsurprisingly people loved it.

Dan’s unique, silent film era style, complete with occasional sepia tones and use of fancy-font title cards to communicate all dialogue and narration, approached modern-day storytelling and vlogging from a completely fresh perspective. He told stories about his own life, but in a style no one had used before.

People were intrigued. Other YouTubers Phil had come to know over the years quickly began interacting with Dan on Twitter, and Dan gathered an enthusiastic audience almost right from the start.

And Dan’s looks certainly didn’t hurt. Phil tried to ignore any jealousy he felt about the amount of flirting he saw going on publicly over social media. He and Dan were friends. Maybe they flirted, but apparently Dan flirted with everyone. It didn’t mean anything.

* * *

  **23 October 2009**

**Phil:** Are you going to the Halloween gathering in London next week?

**Dan:** no

**Phil:** Why not? You’re officially a YouTuber now! You should come!

**Dan:** I can’t

**Phil:** We could finally meet. That would be so cool!

**Dan:** I said I cant

**Dan:** Just drop it ok?

_[a few minutes pass]_

**Phil:** I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to push or anything.

**Phil:** I mean, of course if you don’t want to come, that’s fine.

**Phil:** I just thought it would be cool to meet you in person.

**Phil:** I mean, you’re one of my closest friends now and we’ve never even met!

_[no response]_

_[after an hour, Phil logs off]_

* * *

Phil took the train to London and attended the Halloween Gathering on his own, but felt Dan’s absence keenly the entire time. He brought a white board and a few different colored pens so he could communicate with people more easily, and found that YouTubers were less shy about such things than the average uni student seemed to be. They seemed to find the white board an intriguing novelty and eagerly interacted with him through it.

They didn’t treat him like a freak.

Or, at least, they treated him like their own kind of freak.

He’d discovered a different community. One that wasn’t perhaps as easily familiar and comfortable as the Deaf community he’d grown up in, but a community nonetheless.

He just wished Dan had gotten to experience it, too.

* * *

He kept in touch with another YouTuber he’d met at the London gathering, a guy named PJ who had been particularly unselfconscious about using pantomime, facial expression, and the occasional impromptu prop to communicate with Phil instead of relying exclusively on words written on the white board.

Their brains seemed to work in similarly creative ways, and they collaborated on a sort of abstract short film they’d sketched out together on a series of paper napkins during dinner at the gathering. Phil was pretty proud of the way the project turned out, and PJ seemed happy with it, too. They put it up on PJ’s channel, and it got quite a bit of enthusiastic viewer response.

Dan’s blatantly passive-aggressive jealousy about the whole thing was Phil’s first hint that his own more-than-platonic interest might be reciprocated, but he tried not to get his hopes up.

* * *

**13 December 2009**

**Dan:** I can’t believe I hit 10,000 subscribers!

**Phil:** Yeah, well, everybody loves danisnotonfire.

**Dan:** really? so that includes you? ;)

**Phil:** Nah. Not me.

**Phil:** I don’t love danisnotonfire.

**Phil:** I love Dan Howell.

_[a minute passes]_

**Dan:** I love Phil Lester, too.

* * *

Phil finished his graduate degree in York and returned to Manchester to find himself a flat on his own. He liked the independence but also enjoyed being closer to his family again, and some of his friends from school and college had returned to the area after uni as well.

Returning to some involvement with Deaf culture encouraged Phil to gradually shift the content of his videos, as he became more comfortable openly signing anecdotes about his life, influenced no doubt by Dan’s focus on his everyday life experiences in his own videos.

Viewer response was mixed. Some of Phil’s loyal audience rolled with the changes and seemed to enjoy the more personal glimpses into his life and personality, but others left ignorant, offensive comments about deafness and sign language. He lost some subscribers. Making his content more personal had made the cruel comments feel more personal, too. But when something online hurt his feelings, he just texted a real-life person he knew accepted him just as he was, and it helped.

Being able to sign with people again made his life richer and more fulfilling … and yet he found himself looking forward to his evening Skype calls more than any real-life interactions with his old friends. His family expressed concern that this obsession with a “stranger” on the Internet wasn’t healthy, but they just didn’t understand.

Phil had fallen harder than he ever had before, and with someone he’d never even met in person.

In a strange way, Phil felt simultaneously happier and lonelier than he’d ever been.

* * *

**11 June 2011**

**Phil** : Are you going to Summer in the City this year?

**Dan** : no

**Phil** : You have a lot of fans now. I’m sure they’d like to meet you!

**Phil:** And there are other people who would like to meet you, too! :p

_[a few minutes pass]_

**Phil** : Dan?

_[several minutes pass]_

**Dan:** I said no. Jesus phil just leave it the fuck alone!

**Phil:** Hey, I’m sorry! I’m not trying to pressure you!

**Phil:** I’m just starting to feel like this is kind of weird. Like I have a boyfriend I’ve never even met.

**Dan:** weird is what we do, right?

_[a few minutes pass]_

**Phil:** Yeah. Right.

**Phil:** I know.

**Phil:** I’d just really like to meet you.

_[no response]_

_[after a really long time, Phil logs off]_

* * *

Phil attended Summer in the City on his own again, painfully aware of how much closer he was to Dan when he visited London than when he was back home in Manchester. Painfully aware that Dan not only hadn’t wanted to attend the convention, but hadn’t even responded to Phil’s desire to meet.

He talked with other YouTubers, made plans for possible future collaborations, and hugged dozens of enthusiastic fans, took hundreds of smiling selfies. But the entire time, he couldn’t help but think that Dan was only 40 miles away, instead of the usual 200. Less than an hour by train.

So near, and yet not within reach. He felt it like a physical pain.

* * *

**15 June 2011**

**Dan:** remember when you first told me you were deaf?

**Phil:** Yeah?

**Dan:** and you were afraid i woud think you were a freak

**Phil:** Right, but you didn’t. Right?

**Dan:** of course not you idiot <3

**Phil:** So what’s going on?

**Dan:** theres soemthing i havent told you

**Phil:** You can tell me anything. I love you. You know that.

**Dan:** but its really weird

**Phil:** Weird is what we do. <3<3<3

_[several minutes pass]_

**Dan:** i dont talk

**Phil:** Like you’re shy? I wondered if that might be why you wouldn’t go to the gatherings and stuff.

**Dan:** no i dont talk

**Phil:** But you talk to me all the time. I’m confused.

**Dan:** i mean to people. out loud. irl i don’t talk. ever

**Phil:** Okay.

**Dan:** ok?

**Phil:** Yeah. Okay. I mean, I don’t talk either. Are you Deaf too? Is that why you don’t talk? Why didn’t you ever say anything?

_[several minutes pass]_

**Dan:** no i’m not deaf i just dont talk

**Phil:** It’s okay, Dan. I just want to understand. Why don’t you talk?

_[no response]_

_[after a very, very long time, Phil logs off]_

* * *

Phil didn’t know what to do with what Dan had told him, especially since Dan had sort of dropped a bomb and then just run off without explaining anything.

One thing was clear, though. Dan didn’t like being pushed. When he wanted to talk about this—no pun intended—he would.

Because if one other thing was clear, it was that Phil was willing to wait.

* * *

**6 July 2011**

**Dan:** You havent brought it up.

**Phil:** What?

**Dan:** You havent ever asked about the talking thing.

**Phil:** I did. You didn’t answer.

**Dan:** yeah but you havent asked again since

**Phil:** Did you want me to?

_[several minutes pass]_

**Dan:** I dont know. maybe

**Phil:** Okay. Why don’t you talk?

_[several minutes pass]_

**Dan:** I havent talked since I was 8.

**Phil:** Wow. That’s a long time.

_[a few minutes pass]_

**Dan:** yeah

_[a few minutes pass]_

**Phil:** Is that why you never wanted to meet?

**Dan:** yeah i didn’t want you to think I was a freak

**Phil:** Dan, weird is what we do. And I’m Deaf!

**Dan:** Well yeah but you dont do that on purpose.

**Phil:** You do it on purpose?

**Dan:** sort of i guess

**Phil:** So you could talk if you wanted to, but you don’t want to?

_[several minutes pass]_

**Phil:** Dan?

_[several minutes pass]_

**Phil:** Dan, I don’t think you’re a freak. Just talk to me.

**Phil:** Crap. You know what I mean.

_[no response]_

_[hours later, Phil finally logs off]_

* * *

Phil did some research into muteness that someone might call “on purpose,” just wanting to understand, and found himself wondering if what Dan experienced was maybe something called “selective mutism” or maybe a “conversion disorder.” As far as he could tell, neither one was truly something anyone did purposely, but, really, if Dan didn’t want to talk about it, Phil wouldn’t be able to understand much at all. He just wanted to educate himself a bit so that if Dan ever **did** want to talk about it, he’d be less likely to say something stupid and make Dan shut down even more.

* * *

**12 February 2012**

**Dan:** I have a question to ask you.

**Phil:** Okay.

**Dan:** but its making me really nervous

**Phil:** I love you, Dan. Whatever it is, it’ll be okay. I promise. <3

_[several minutes pass]_

**Dan:** do you think maybe i could come visit you in manchester?

**Phil:** Skype me right now this very minute because you have to see how big my smile is! <3<3<3<3<3


	3. What Matters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil frets the day before meeting Dan for the first time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short chapter just to clarify the state of DnP’s relationship heading into their first meeting. It’s not the most exciting chapter in the fic, though, so just trust me that the next couple are MUCH better.

“So you’re meeting Dan tomorrow, right?” Craig used the sign Phil had long been using for Dan’s name, a “D” over his heart.

Phil nodded, smiling at his old friend over the Skype connection. “I can’t believe he’s finally coming.”

“And then you’ll both be … coming,” Craig joked, waggling his eyebrows and making the sign for “coming” exaggerated. The joke didn’t precisely translate into BSL, but Craig wasn’t deaf or a part of that community, and so his signing had always been a bit eccentric. He’d only learned from Phil when they were kids, after all—the same way any neighbor kids who’ve been friends since diapers might learn each other’s language.

Phil frowned and shook his head. “It isn’t like that,” he insisted.

Craig looked confused. “But you’re in love with this guy. You’ve been raving about him for ages. You’re finally going to meet, and you don’t plan to get some up-close-and-personal action?”

Phil glanced away, unsure if Craig would understand. Then he looked back at the laptop. “Dan’s had a rough time. He didn’t have a bunch of friends who understood, like I did at the Deaf school. He’s been alone all these years, with everybody treating him like a freak.” He hesitated, uncertain if he should reveal a confidence, then added, “He says he’s never even had a real friend before. Not since he was a little kid. Not since he stopped talking.”

Craig’s expression had changed. “Wow,” he signed slowly, his face showing his sympathy. Facial expression and body language make up a big part of BSL, and Phil could see that Craig understood better now. “So he’s never…” Craig paused. “He’s a little younger, yeah, but he’s nearly our age, and he’s never … has he never dated anyone?”

Phil shook his head. He didn’t say anything more, just gazing at his oldest friend and letting his feelings show on his face.

Craig’s chest rose and fell in what Phil assumed was a sigh. His face was all compassion now. “Have you two talked about it?”

This time Phil was the one who sighed. He shook his head again and signed, “Sex?” Craig nodded. “No. I haven’t wanted to bring it up.”

“So what do you think is going to happen when you meet?” Craig asked.

Phil shook his head and shrugged, “I don’t want him to feel pressured or uncomfortable. He might not be ready for any of that.”

Craig was frowning again. “So … you’ve been calling this guy your boyfriend for ages, but you haven’t done any cyber … or sexting … or anything?”

Phil rubbed a hand over his face, then wearily shook his head again. “You don’t understand.”

Craig’s eyes were gentle when he signed, “I know.” Phil smiled gratefully. Craig continued, “How are you doing with that, though? I mean, you haven’t been dating anyone else, have you?”

Phil’s gestured emphatically, “No!” then added, “Not since I started falling in love with him.”

Craig bit his lip, hesitated, and then asked, “So you haven’t had any kind of sex in … how long?” He made a sympathetically pained face.

Phil laughed ruefully and rubbed a hand through his hair. He grimaced a bit when he replied, “A long time.”

“Okay. This might sound insensitive, but…” Craig hesitated before finishing, “does Dan know what a player you used to be?” He raised his eyebrows.

Phil rolled his eyes and scoffed, “I wasn’t a ‘player’!”

Craig laughed and signed, “I know several girls **and** guys who would gleefully offer testimony to refute that statement.”

Phil blushed and laughed with Craig. One of the problems with knowing someone your whole life: you couldn’t get away with playing innocent. “No,” he admitted, glaring a bit at his remorseless friend. “No, I haven’t given him a detailed description of my long and illustrious sexual history.” They both laughed again.

Then Craig’s face became serious and he asked, “But you aren’t sure if Dan is going to be into that?”

Phil shrugged. “I love him,” he explained simply. “That’s what’s important. The other stuff…” He waved a hand dismissively.

Craig raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “You’re saying that you don’t care about sex at all? Seriously?”

Phil sobered, all trace of joking gone. “Not like I care about Dan.” He took a deep breath, then let it out in a long sigh. “I just want to be with him,” he signed, his heart aching.

Craig smiled at him. “And tomorrow you **will** be. Finally!” Phil smiled a little, trying to shake off his worries. Then Craig added mischievously, “And don’t worry about the rest. If worse comes to worse, your right hand will always be there for you.”

Phil’s mouth dropped open in disbelief but he couldn’t help but laugh. He grabbed the pillow from behind him on the bed and hit the laptop with it, as if swatting Craig in person. When he looked at the screen again, Craig just grinned at him, completely unrepentant. Phil shook his head, still laughing.

“Now get some sleep, loser,” Craig signed affectionately. “You’ve got a big day tomorrow. Good luck.”

Phil took another deep breath and then let it out slowly. “I’m trying not to be nervous,” he admitted.

Craig smiled fondly and said, “It’s going to be great. You guys know each other, even if you haven’t met in person before. Just … be yourself. And I hope someday I get to meet him.”

Phil grinned. “I’d like that.”

Craig shooed his hands at Phil before signing, “Go! Get your beauty rest! You want to look pretty for your boyfriend tomorrow!” He grinned again.

Phil rolled his eyes and nodded, then waved goodbye to Craig before signing off.

Talking it through must have helped, because he felt a lot less anxious than he had before the call. He lay in the dark, thinking that tomorrow he would get to see Dan’s brown eyes in person, and he fell asleep with an excited stomach as if when he woke it would be Christmas morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I don’t like this chapter much, I’m expecting that I’ll upload Chapter 4 in a few days (probably Tuesday morning) to provide some higher quality content, then Chapter 5 about a week later.


	4. Show Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan and Phil finally meet for the first time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Strangely enough, Phil’s traditional wave of the hand when he says, “Hi guys,” at the start of his videos irl is pretty much the British Sign Language sign for “hello.”

People rushed all around Phil, sometimes bumping into him, probably muttering unheard politely British words of apology. Phil ignored them, keeping his eyes on Dan’s train as it pulled into the station and the doors opened, emitting more hurried people. Phil watched for a tall, dark head and a familiar face, scanning the crowd eagerly.

When he didn’t see Dan right away, he pulled out his phone to give it a quick look, wondering if he should text something. They weren’t going to be able to talk, after all, so they’d almost certainly rely on texting as they had on Skype. Writing on paper and white boards had been dismal failures, since Dan’s handwriting was not only nearly illegible but inevitably smeared by his left-handedness. So they’d fallen into the habit of hanging out on Skype and texting each other, looking up to see each other’s reactions. Now they’d finally be able to do the same thing in person.

He fiddled with his phone a second, then decided that he didn’t need to text quite yet. He was tall enough that Dan should be able to spot him pretty easily. So he put his phone back in his pocket for the moment.

When he looked up, Dan had appeared in front of him as if by magic, looking young and beautiful and nervous. Phil smiled, and Dan waved his left hand in an exaggerated gesture, almost as if he was mocking Phil’s intro to his videos. Phil felt his smile slip a bit. But then Dan bit his lip shyly and gestured with his hands what looked a lot like BSL for “Not right?”

Phil’s eyes widened and his smiled broadened with excited surprise. Phil’s intro to his videos was the BSL sign for “hello,” after all, and **that** was what Dan had been doing, not mocking him.

Phil signed in awe, “You learned BSL for me?”

Dan ducked his head, scuffing his sneaker against the concrete of the platform, then looked up to meet Phil’s eyes again. He smiled and shrugged awkwardly, then signed, “A little. Not good.” His blush was adorable.

Phil swooped in and wrapped his arms around Dan’s waist, laughing aloud and swinging him around in a circle. Dan grabbed his shoulders tightly at the unexpected sensation of leaving the ground, but grinned broadly when Phil planted him back on his feet.

Their eyes met and Phil desperately wanted to lean forward and finally kiss the lips he’d been fantasizing about for **years** , but he remembered how hesitant Dan had been when admitting his degree of inexperience, how Dan had texted him during one of their Skype calls that “nobody ever wanted to date a dummy.” He’d looked so vulnerable there on Phil’s computer screen, gazing down into his own lap so that he wouldn’t have to see Phil’s reaction.

Phil might have had a supportive social network and understanding friends at the Deaf school in Manchester, but Dan had always been alone in his muteness, surrounded by a world that didn’t accept or understand him, a world that instead mocked and belittled and judged. So Phil tried to keep in mind that this would all be very new to Dan, having someone really listening to him in person and not just over the Internet.

Dan might not speak orally, but—like Phil—he still spoke to thousands of YouTube viewers on a regular basis. Unlike Phil, though, he wasn’t used to speaking to someone in real life who understood him … especially not someone who had been pretty clear about his romantic and sexual attraction. From what little Dan had said, Phil figured he’d had probably never even flirted with anyone in person.

So Phil restrained himself from even reaching for Dan’s hand and instead just signed, “I’m so happy to see you!”

Dan nodded, his eyes roaming Phil’s face eagerly. Then he signed, “Coffee?”

Phil signed the letters to spell “Starbucks” and raised his eyebrows questioningly. When Dan nodded again, Phil picked up Dan’s bag and slung it over his own shoulder and gestured to Dan to follow.

* * *

Dan went to find them a table while Phil placed their orders. As usual, he just typed the order into his phone, then held it up for the cashier to read. He always set the font to be nice and large so he didn’t actually have to hand his phone over to strangers. The cashier smiled at him and he smiled back, then he turned to look for Dan.

He’d found a table near the large windows, and Phil went to join him. He pointed at his ear, then at Dan, then toward the counter, hoping that Dan would understand that he should listen for their names to be called when their drinks were ready, and Dan nodded.

The thick condensation on the windows made the world outside hazy and indistinct. Dan lifted a finger and drew a happy face in the moisture, then turned to beam at Phil. Phil lifted his own finger and drew a heart, making Dan blush and look away. But then a foot hooked around his ankle under the table and Phil knew that he hadn’t overstepped.

Suddenly the foot was gone and Dan jumped up to walk to the counter. He came back with their drinks and sat down again, looking into his coffee and stirring it in an obviously nervous manner. Phil reached out to touch his wrist to get his attention, and Dan looked up. “How was your trip?” Phil signed.

Dan frowned slightly, his brows drawing together in apparent confusion. He reddened and looked down again, then pulled out his phone. Phil watched him, puzzled, but then his own phone buzzed.

**Dan:** i didn’t actually learn that much sign language. just what I could find on youtube and from watching you

Phil looked up, but Dan still wasn’t meeting his eyes.

**Phil:** I think it’s incredible that you learned any at all! Now would you please at least look at me????

Dan looked up, and they smiled at each other. They sipped from their mugs and just looked at each other for a while. Phil nudged Dan’s foot under the table and they both grinned. Phil picked up his phone again.

**Phil:** So what signs do you know?

Dan shrugged, looking embarrassed. Then he was typing.

**Dan:** i’m not very good with sentences, mostly just words you say a lot in your videos

Phil raised his eyebrows, suddenly curious. Dan smirked mischievously, then signed, “Sweets.” Phil giggled. “Lion.” They both laughed. “Christmas. Anyway. Hugs. Adventure Time. Oh my god. To be honest. Best thing ever.” They were both snickering uncontrollably now. Then, with a flourish, Dan signed, “Today's draw Phil naked is..." and they both laughed so loud that several people turned to look. Phil didn’t care a bit. Dan had watched his videos enough to learn some signs! He’d actually watched Phil’s hands and read the subtitles and purposely taught himself some BSL … just to surprise Phil when they met.

It was probably the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for him.

He looked at Dan’s lips and thought again about what it would be like to kiss him. When he raised his eyes to meet Dan’s gaze, he’d clearly been caught, because Dan was blushing again. He hooked his foot around Dan’s ankle and Dan’s smile brightened.

**Phil:** THANK YOU!!!! :)))))

He didn’t type, “I love you,” even though he wanted to, because suddenly that felt awkward, now that they were together in person, even though they’d been saying it for ages online. Telling someone you love them when you’ve just met felt kind of weird. Even though his heart was nearly bursting with it.

His phone buzzed in his hand.

**Dan:** if i text you some stuff can you show me how to sign it?

Phil nodded eagerly. Here he’d expected that they would have to communicate exclusively through texts during the whole visit, and instead Dan wanted to learn more BSL? This was better than anything he’d even dared imagine.

**Dan:** the train ride was really boring

Phil signed the sentence, and Dan copied him carefully, if a bit awkwardly.

**Dan:** i kept thinking about you

Phil’s smile grew while he signed that one. Then he signed, “I was thinking about you, too,” before typing the same sentence into a text.

**Dan:** dan is going to learn sign language

Dan frowned slightly in apparent confusion when Phil signed the statement, then clarified what had confused him in a text.

**Dan:** what was that sign you used?

**Phil:** which sign?

Dan held the letterspelling sign for “D” to his heart, head cocked with curiosity.

**Phil:** That's my sign for your name.

Dan’s smile somehow became even sweeter as he glanced shyly down at the table, dimples clearly visible, then picked up his phone again.

**Dan:** then my sign for your name is

and he held the letterspelling sign for “P” to his own heart. His eyes met Phil’s and they didn’t look away. Phil still didn’t sign or text, “I love you,” but he felt like they both said it with their eyes. His friends and family had other signs for his name, but this would always be his favorite one now. He looked at Dan’s hand, still held to his heart, and then looked back into Dan’s eyes. After a moment, his phone buzzed.

**Dan:** you're my favorite person

**Phil:** You’re mine, too.

**Dan:** no, show me how to sign it doofus!

They both chuckled, and Phil signed, “You’re my favorite person.” Dan mimicked him, signing the same thing back at him. Then Dan barraged him with a series of requests for signs, and Phil complied, modeling how to say each of the requested words and sentences in BSL, then watching Dan sign the same things back to him.

**Dan:** this is the best day of my life

**Dan:** i feel like the luckiest person ever

**Dan:** boyfriend

**Dan:** kiss

**Dan:** i want to kiss you

Surprised, almost shocked, Phil decided to make a joke to lighten the atmosphere, not wanting to risk Dan getting uncomfortable with how quickly things were moving.

**Phil:** Right here in the Starbucks?

But Dan’s face was serious. He glanced at Phil’s lips, then down at his phone.

**Dan:** just show me how to sign it. i want to see you sign it

Phil bit his lip, his heart pounding, then decided that he could be as brave as Dan was being. Dan was watching him again as Phil texted his reply.

**Phil:** Sure. It’s true, anyway.

When Dan looked up from his phone, Phil signed, “I want to kiss you.” Dan looked him directly in the eyes as he copied the signs in return.

**Dan:** phil has his own flat

Raising his eyebrows, Phil signed it, using Dan’s sign for his name.

**Dan:** we could be there right now

Phil signed the sentence, then shook his head in admiration. He’d expected Dan to be hesitant, but instead the boy was displaying an openness and honesty and courage that only made Phil fall even harder than he had already. “I love you,” he signed, not holding himself back anymore. Dan’s eyes widened, so apparently he had seen that one somewhere on YouTube, or maybe Phil had signed it to his viewers in one of his videos? In any case, Dan obviously understood what Phil had signed. After a slight hesitation, he signed the same in return, the movements of his hands and fingers slow and deliberate as he held Phil’s gaze.

They both stilled, just breathing in the private moment that surrounded them despite the busy strangers bustling around them in the coffee shop.

“I love you, Phil,” Dan signed again, adding on the sign he’d created for Phil’s name.

“I love you, too, Dan,” Phil signed, and then he reached his hand across the table, relieved when Dan took it and squeezed his fingers. They stayed that way until Phil couldn’t stand it anymore. He pulled his hand away and signed slowly, “Phil has his own flat. We could be there right now. Kissing.” And Dan smiled.

**Dan:** i’m pretty sure i understood that. let’s go

He stood up, smiling the loveliest smile Phil had ever seen, and pocketed his phone.

This time **Phil** was the one who copied **him**.


	5. First

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That first kiss finally happens

Dan evaporated like mist, as if he’d never existed. One moment, Phil felt a constant frisson of awareness of that delicious warmth along his side, only inches away, and then suddenly … nothing.

Well, not nothing: a couple of very enthusiastic teenage girls, obviously subscribers, mouths moving excitedly, probably not really thinking about the fact that he couldn’t hear a word they were saying, though his lip reading had improved a lot since he'd first left the Deaf school. But then the girls were miming requests to take selfies with him, and Phil happily obliged, as always. But his mind was elsewhere. Where had Dan gone? Phil hugged the girls goodbye, trying to smile warmly as he waved at them, attempting to shoo them off without being rude. They clutched their phones, giggling, as he turned away to look frantically up and down the street.

His phone vibrated in his pocket.

 **Dan:** i’m in the apple store. come get me when theyre gone

The girls were still watching him with obvious fascination, so Phil strolled away from them and ducked into a nearby bookstore.

 **Phil:** I’m in the WHSmith. I’ll wait until I’m sure they’re gone. Don’t you ever get fans stopping you in the street?

 **Dan:** no

 **Phil:** How is that possible? You have more subscribers than I do!

 **Dan:** i don’t go out much  & i keep my head down. maybe i dont have many subscribers in wokingham

 **Phil:** I know you don’t go to the conventions, but surely you’ve met some of your fans sometime?

 **Dan:** no

 **Dan:** i mean then theyd know i can’t talk

Phil stood staring at his phone, not knowing what to say in response to that. He went to the front of the store and cautiously peered out. No sign of the excited girls. The Apple Store was about a block away, so he started walking in that direction.

Dan had **never** met a subscriber? At least all Phil’s viewers knew he was Deaf, and so he could be himself if he met them on the street and they wouldn’t be surprised. He had nothing to hide. But Dan let everyone believe that the “silent movie” theme was just his signature video style. He interacted with his audience enthusiastically on social media, but … he never interacted with anyone in person. He’d never even done any collabs with other YouTubers, as far as Phil knew.

Phil suddenly wondered if he was the only one Dan had told. He’d never thought about it, but now that he did, it seemed obvious.

He’d seen Dan interact frequently not only with fans but also with various other YouTubers on social media over the past couple years, and he seemed very friendly with many of them, especially the ones he knew Phil was personal friends with. Dan was always joking and supportive and self-deprecatingly funny with them all. But … Phil was probably the only one he’d trusted with the truth.

In the crowded Apple Store, Phil spotted Dan huddled in a corner with his hoodie pulled up to cover his hair and much of his face. He was staring down at his phone, his shoulders hunched as if braced for a blow. Phil stopped a couple feet away, not wanting to startle him.

 **Phil:** I’m right behind you.

Dan turned immediately, and the pinched look on his face hurt Phil’s heart. His brown eyes were wide and frightened, his mouth tight and drawn. He looked back down at his phone, typing.

 **Dan:** they didn’t see me did they?

Phil shook his head, smiling sadly, and then couldn’t help but take Dan in his arms for the first time. He was so much larger than the girls Phil had hugged only moments ago, but so much dearer and more precious, because this was **Dan**. **His** Dan. And he was hiding in an Apple Store because he was **afraid**.

Dan’s body went completely rigid for a moment, but then he suddenly relaxed into Phil’s hold as if deflating. His head sank down so that his forehead rested on Phil’s shoulder and he wrapped his long arms around Phil’s waist, squeezing as if clinging to a life raft in stormy seas. Phil raised a hand to brush aside the hoodie so he could stroke Dan’s hair slowly, over and over again. And maybe they were making a bit of a spectacle of themselves in the corner of the Apple Store, but Phil didn’t care.

But Dan might.

So Phil pulled away gently and waited for Dan’s head to come up. Phil gestured questioningly toward the door, and Dan nodded. Phil mimed putting his hood up, and Dan did, glancing around nervously. They left the store and walked to the bus stop more quickly than they’d been walking when they first left the Starbucks.

* * *

They didn’t talk at the stop, or even on the bus. They just stared at their individual phones, not even texting each other. Dan just followed Phil like a shadow.

When they arrived at the flat, Dan hovered near the front door, clearly nervous, as Phil removed his coat and hung it on the peg in the entryway. Dan’s eyes flitted here and there, trying to take in the whole room at once. He’d seemed skittish ever since the fans in the high street.

“Want a tour?” Phil signed, using his facial expression and inviting gesture to make his meaning clear. Dan nodded, pulling his hoodie sleeves down to mostly cover his hands in a move Phil had seen on Skype a hundred times, but which he found utterly adorable nonetheless.

Phil led him to the lounge and signed, “The lounge,” before identifying the signs for “table,” “sofa,” and “Playstation.” Well, okay, he fingerspelled “Playstation,” mostly just to see Dan smile. Phil pulled out his phone again.

 **Phil:** How did you learn fingerspelling?

Dan pressed his palms together and then pulled them apart as if opening a book, which seemed clear enough. Phil nodded in understanding: Dan had actually gone looking for a book to learn the BSL alphabet. Phil’s heart swelled.

Dan held up a hand, and Phil stopped, watching him. Then Dan repeated the signs for “lounge,” “table,” and “sofa,” before laboriously fingerspelling “Playstation.”

“That’s great!” Phil signed with a broad smile. “Good memory!” He knew Dan would be able to figure out some of the signs just from context and from what they looked like, since BSL was fairly visually intuitive. So he led him through the flat, pointing things out and slowly signing their names, watching fondly when Dan copied him.

When he’d finished the tour, they wound up standing in the kitchen, just glancing around, avoiding each other’s eyes, not sure what to do next.

In the back of his mind, he kept remembering Dan’s intent eyes back at the Starbucks, Dan signing, “I want to kiss you.” Dan signing, “I love you.” But the Dan here with him in his flat in the present moment seemed comparatively distant and uncomfortable, shoulders hunched as tight as they’d been in the Apple Store, hands shoved nervously in his jeans pockets. He looked young and uncertain and self-conscious.

Resorting to the manners his mum had taught him, Phil picked up the kettle and signed, “Tea?” Then he held up the can of instant coffee and signed, “Or coffee?”

Dan’s shoulders lowered an inch or so and he nodded, clearly relieved. “Coffee,” he signed. Phil wondered if the caffeine might just make them both more jittery and nervous, but at least it would give them something to do. And the only other thing he could think about doing was basically leaping on Dan and claiming some of those promised kisses … and Dan didn’t look remotely ready for that right now.

* * *

They ended up playing several games of Mario Kart and Crash Bandicoot, letting their coffees go cold on the side table as they sat side-by-side on Phil’s sofa. Dan was a Mario Kart master, utterly destroying Phil every race and pretending no false modesty as he performed a shameless victory dance after every win. Phil pretended to pout about it, but really he was just happy to see Dan laughing and bouncing up and down. He was also pleased that Dan seemed to finally be making himself at home, running through the game menus himself instead of deferring to Phil like some kind of polite guest.

They slouched down on the sofa when they’d decided they’d had enough gaming, both relaxed and smiling. Neither of them said anything for a long moment, and Phil just savored the presence of Dan in his flat. Finally. After all this time! Dan was actually here!

He turned his head to look at this boy, this young man he’d been longing for, dreaming of, for so long. Years of long-distance courting through DMs and texts and Skype calls. And somehow, for some reason, Dan had finally decided to fully trust him, had bought a ticket and gotten on a train and ridden for hours, had braved the wild subscribers of Manchester’s high street … all for Phil. He could feel his heart beating, feel his own pulse in his fingertips and in his throat and on his tongue and … Dan turned to meet his gaze. Phil held his breath. Then Dan’s eyes dropped to Phil’s lips, then back up to meet Phil’s eyes. Phil licked his lips, not trying to be seductive but just not wanting to have dry lips for their first kiss … because that’s what was about to happen, right? He could see the reciprocated longing on Dan’s face, the slight parting of his lips, the intensity in his gaze.

And then Dan looked away, running a hand through his fringe, trying to straighten it, then fluff it, all movements Phil had seen him make on Skype, but in this case Dan had no image of himself to look at, so it was obviously just nervous habit.

Phil wondered if Dan wanted him to take the lead. Maybe Dan was too nervous to initiate a kiss? But that didn’t feel right. It felt like if this was going to happen—and Phil was pretty darn certain it **would** happen eventually, even if it wasn’t today, even if it wasn’t this weekend at all—it needed to happen on Dan’s schedule. When Dan was ready.

When their lips first met, Dan would be the one to close that last tiny distance between them.

Dan stood up and prowled restlessly around the lounge, inspecting the movies, games, books, and knick-knacks on the various shelves, occasionally casting a nervous glance at Phil on the sofa. Eventually, he held up a DVD case for the horror film _Cube_ and raised an eyebrow, eyes darting toward the tv then back at Phil. Phil shrugged and nodded, gesturing toward the DVD player in invitation. Dan put the disc in and hovered in front of the tv, using the remote to start the film. The subtitles started automatically with Phil’s default settings. Dan went to turn off the overhead lamp, which surprised Phil, since they’d talked about Dan’s fear of the dark. They’d also talked about his ironic preference for full immersion when he watched horror films, though, so maybe it shouldn’t have been surprising.

It definitely made the room feel more intimate, though.

And when Dan returned to the sofa, he sat a little closer to Phil this time.

In fact, their arms were touching slightly. Phil found himself painfully aware of the gooseflesh rising everywhere Dan’s skin innocently brushed his. He stared fixedly at the television screen, though he paid no attention to what he was actually watching. He’d seen the film before, of course, but right now his brain was a blank, all his senses attuned to the warm body so close beside him, so near after they’d been so far apart for so long. His hands begged to reach for Dan, but Phil twined his fingers together in his lap to control himself.

When he felt Dan’s eyes on him again, he turned his head. The flickering light from the telly made it difficult to read Dan’s expression, but the body language couldn’t have been clearer as Dan leaned slightly closer, then hesitated again. Wanting to help alleviate some of the built-up tension and awkwardness, Phil smiled softly and signed again, for the first time since the Starbucks, “I love you, Dan.” He wasn’t sure how well Dan would be able to see his hands in the dim lighting, but the change in Dan’s facial expression said it had been enough.

A moment later, Phil’s eyes closed as a soft mouth touched his, the barest brush at first, just a hint of contact, uncertain, questioning. Phil kept his lips pliant, parting them very slightly beneath Dan’s to show his interest without pressing for anything more. A warm hand reached up to cradle the side of his face, and Phil could feel a slight tremble in Dan’s fingers as he scooted closer to Phil on the sofa and leaned more fully into the kiss. Phil tilted his head slightly to improve the angle, and this aligned their mouths perfectly, Dan’s hand sliding up into Phil’s hair and a timid tongue darting quickly across the sensitive skin of his bottom lip.

Then Dan slid away again, and the brief kiss was over. Dan’s eyes watched him nervously from the distance he’d put between them until he eventually signed anxiously, “Was that okay?”

Phil closed his eyes again for a moment, just savoring the memory of that gentle intimacy, and then opened his eyes to gaze fondly at Dan as he signed, “The best.” In case Dan didn’t understand the sign, Phil raised a hand to press two fingers softly to his own lips and smiled, letting his eyes close again.

When he opened them, Dan was smiling too, glancing down shyly and then back up at Phil through his lashes. He licked his lips, probably unconsciously, and copied Phil’s sign. “The best,” Dan signed, and Phil knew a bewitching blush probably suffused that beautiful face undetected in the darkened lounge.

The film continued to play, ignored, a few feet away, but Phil just admired how its light emphasized the shadow of dimple in Dan’s cheek as they gazed at each other with a sort of blissful, tender joy he’d never experienced before in his entire life.

“I love you,” Dan signed quickly, and then he scooted close to cuddle against Phil’s side, nestling his head onto Phil’s shoulder so that his hair tickled Phil’s cheek, and they pretended to turn their attention back to watching the film, actually just breathing together and feeling closer than any two people had ever been.


	6. Emergence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan and Phil's first weekend together continues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Massive thanks and credit are due to [Viviana_Di_Chiara](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Viviana_Di_Chiara), who created a wonderful piece of art to illustrate the last scene in this chapter, and I can’t appreciate or thank her enough. She is always a joy to work with, and one of the nicest people on the planet.

Phil emerged from his bedroom in the morning to find the guest room door still closed.

Well, calling it a “guest room” might be overstating things a bit. Really, it was the computer room, but it had a futon couch that folded out into a bed, and that’s where he’d settled Dan for the night. He guessed the closed door indicated Dan was still asleep. Given Dan’s habits, he probably wouldn’t emerge until mid-day, so Phil settled down on the sofa in the lounge to start his usual morning ritual of checking email, YouTube comments, his social media accounts, etc.

He saw he’d gotten some comments on a few of his recent videos. Under “Things I thought were true that are not true,” a commenter had written:

> **Cowboy Spike** 5 hours ago  
>  youtube is for people who can talk, not wave hands around like your having a seizure. delete your channel, freak

And in response to the “My First Date!” video, the same person had written:

> **Cowboy Spike** 5 hours ago  
>  it’s no wonder she cried, having to go on a date with a freak like you! nobody would want to have to look at your creepy-eyed face, how did you even get a date in the first place? must have been another reatarded dummy like you

Phil took in a deep breath and slowly sighed it out, stretching his neck from one side to the other. He knew he shouldn’t let comments like these get to him. Back when his videos had been mostly just surreal short films, it had been easier to shrug off the occasional hateful feedback, but as his style had slowly evolved into more personal anecdotes, the cruelty too had begun to feel more personal. He closed his eyes, reminding himself that strangers on the Internet didn’t actually know him, even if he did choose to reveal some aspects of his real self in his videos. He was usually pretty good at just letting this sort of stuff roll off him. He stretched his neck side to side again and resolved to just ignore the rest of this person’s comments.

He hated when people said his eyes were creepy, though.

His phone buzzed on the table beside him and he picked it up. A text from Dan? He glanced back toward the hallway, but the guest room door was still closed. Dan was texting him? From his own guest room? Instead of coming out to say good morning?

 **Dan:** so

 **Dan:** I kissed you last night

Ah. So maybe he was embarrassed? Feeling shy?

 **Dan:** but I figure I’m probably rubbish at it

 **Dan:** so maybe its your turn?

Okay. Maybe not so shy after all. This sounded more like the cheeky Dan from Starbucks. Apparently, sleep had restored some of the self-confidence he’d lost after the fan ambush in the high street.

 **Phil:** Daniel James Howell, are you asking me to kiss you? ;)

 **Dan:** maybe :p

 **Phil:** Right now?

 **Dan:** well

 **Dan:** i definitely need to brush my teeth first

Phil saw a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye and turned to see Dan’s hastily retreating back headed toward the bathroom.

A couple minutes later, Dan emerged barefoot, wearing gray track bottoms and a white t-shirt, his wavy hair a bit damp as if he’d tried to smooth it with little success. His face looked a bit pink, but he plopped down cross-legged facing Phil on the sofa with a determined air and a bit of a bounce, wiggling both hands toward himself in an unmistakeable “come on” gesture. He looked delectably eager.

“Good morning to you, too,” Phil signed with more than a little amusement.

Dan frowned in confusion. He probably didn’t know the signs. Phil gave a thumbs up with a wide grin, then gestured around them. Then he slowly, deliberately fingerspelled, “G-O-O-D M-O-R-N-I-N-G.” Dan rolled his eyes and nodded, copying Phil’s cheeky thumbs-up and cheesy grin. Then he signed just the sign for “kiss” and gazed at Phil expectantly.

Phil laughed with delight. He’d been so worried about Dan’s potential discomfort about all this … he should have trusted that the same flirty nerd from Skype would be the Dan he’d get in person. Dan wouldn’t let a few nerves get in the way of what he wanted. And apparently what he wanted was Phil kissing him.

Who was Phil to say no?

Phil scooted a bit closer, and their knees bumped. Dan sitting cross-legged put the entire length of his long legs between them. Even folded up as he was, the stilts he called limbs created an impressive barrier … something Dan probably hadn’t taken into account when he’d flopped onto the sofa so unceremoniously. Phil leaned forward, letting a hand rest on Dan’s left knee to help him balance, and Dan caught on immediately, leaning forward to make it easier for Phil to reach him.

Phil lifted his other hand and drew a hand down across his own eyes, shutting them, then pointed at Dan. He opened his eyes again to see Dan, eyes obediently closed, waiting, looking like the most gorgeous thing Phil had ever seen.

His hand still on Dan’s knee for balance, Phil leaned forward to press a soft kiss to the corner of Dan’s mouth, the place where his lips turned up when he first started to smile. Dan startled a bit at that first touch, but then tried to turn his face to press his lips more fully to Phil’s.

So impatient!

Phil used his free hand to stroke the side of Dan’s face, trying to calm and reassure him, then slid his fingers into the damp brown curls, not really trying to hold Dan still but just wanting to steady him … and then Phil finally let his lips press gently against Dan’s.

He kept the kiss gentle, slow, leisurely—relishing Dan’s taste and feel and smell and warmth—but varied the angle and pressure enough to make sure Dan would feel well and properly snogged by the time they were done. When he finally did pull away from that deliciously decadent kiss, Dan instinctively leaned further forward, lips trying to follow his. Dan caught himself as he started to overbalance, his hand landing on Phil’s pajama-clad knee as his eyes opened so that they were now mirror images of each other.

Phil contemplated the face before him: the eyes with their dilated pupils, the dazed expression, the flushed cheeks, the plumped lips still slightly parted in eagerness. He waited for Dan to come back to himself, and saw the process as he slowly gathered his wits and straightened up again, looking more alert and self-possessed. He seemed to make an attempt at playing it cool, trying to put on an unruffled persona, but his tousled bedhead and sparkling eyes made the effort useless. The real Dan showed through like the sun, thank goodness.

Eventually, Dan pulled Phil’s laptop toward him on the coffee table and opened a text tab. He typed, “how do you sign ‘you taste like coffee’?’” Phil laughed and showed him, and Dan copied it with a smile, then licked his lips.

Phil signed, “You taste like toothpaste,” and Dan copied the very visually intuitive sign for ‘toothpaste.’

They just watched each other, small happy smirks on both their faces, until Dan signed, albeit a little clumsily, “Kiss me again,” and so Phil did.

* * *

Phil lost track of time for a while there, but when they finally pulled apart and sat up, Dan reached over to close the text tab he’d opened earlier, and Phil felt him suddenly go still. Phil glanced at him and saw him scowling at Phil’s laptop screen, where the YouTube tab was still open. Dan pointed at the comment on the “My First Date!” video, his finger jabbing in accusation, then looked at Phil for a moment before opening another text tab and rapidly typing, “what’s the sign for dickhead moron?”

Phil chuckled, closing the YouTube tab and looking up to smile at Dan. He just shrugged in the face of Dan’s overwhelming fury, any lingering unhappiness about the comments disappearing in the presence of such a staunch protector.

Dan typed, “how about brainless douchebag?”

When Phil just laughed, Dan typed, “how am i going to learn fucking bsl if you don’t teach me any of the actually useful words?”

Phil pulled the laptop toward himself and typed, “Don’t worry about that guy. There are always going to be jerks on the Internet.” But then he paused, fingers still poised over the keyboard. Maybe he shouldn’t just let this go as easily as that. He’d never made a video specifically about being Deaf, because he’d never felt a need to do so, no more than he felt a need to make a video specifically about being British … or Northern … or naturally (secretly) ginger. He’d always taken being Deaf for granted, as a part of him like any other, something he was proud of and comfortable with and felt no need to defend. He’d always dismissed the ignorant comments as unimportant … but maybe it was time to actually address the issue. Dan’s indignant fire was infectious.

He typed, “But you’ve given me an idea. Want to help me with something?” And then he turned to face Dan with wide, beseeching eyes and what he hoped was his most winning, persuasive smile, his smile that said, “You want to give me what I want, right? Please?”

Dan raised a brow and looked suspicious, eyeing Phil’s face for a long moment before cautiously gesturing for Phil to elaborate.

* * *

They called the video “Teaching Dan to Use Signs,” purposely punning on Dan’s use of title cards in his own videos and the process of learning BSL.

Phil understood Dan’s reluctance—he knew Dan had never collaborated on a video before, and this would be a lot less formally scripted and edited than his usual content—but when Phil had described the idea for the video as “a response to the Cowboy Spikes of the world,” Dan had immediately agreed with a grim set to his mouth.

His nervousness showed throughout the filming, but Phil would do his best to edit that out. In editing, they could also add Dan-style silent movie title cards to provide commentary, dialogue, and narration for their humorous BSL tutorial. Phil showed Dan how to sign things, and Dan purposely signed them badly. They paused frequently so that Dan could ask how to sign funny words to insert instead of whatever Phil was supposedly teaching him to say, so that he could sign, “I licked a badger,” instead of, “I like making videos.”

As usual, Phil would write up his own subtitles with occasional asides in different fonts or different colors. He liked to consider the subtitles just another element of his content, so they reflected his personality instead of just giving a strict translation of his words.

Phil knew the combination of BSL, creative subtitles, silent movie title cards, humor, and just plain chemistry between the two of them was a sure winner, not like anything he’d seen on YouTube before and something both their audiences would probably enjoy.

Cowboy Spike could kiss his Deaf ass.

* * *

“Teaching Dan to Use Signs” went viral almost immediately when Phil uploaded it, and both his and Dan’s subscriber numbers jumped as their audiences discovered each other. Phil tried to answer as many of the earnest comments on the video as possible, trying to educate people a bit more about deafness and BSL. He was surprised to see how many requests there were for more BSL tutorials, and resolved to make some. He had an idea for one specifically with words and phrases useful for meet-and-greets, so that fans at conventions might be able to communicate with him more easily. He thought people would probably like that.

Fans clamored aggressively both in the YouTube comments and to both of them on Twitter: the masses wanted another collab, and they wanted it now. Dan was popular, and Phil was popular, but Dan and Phil together had produced a sort of atomic explosion, and viewers couldn’t get enough.

* * *

“We’re still us,” Phil signed on Skype, trying to reassure a panicky Dan. “We’re still just you and me, Dan and Phil, and I love you.” They’d taken to signing more and more in their Skype calls. Dan had signed up for a BSL class online and practiced every night with Phil. When he didn’t understand something, he would ask Phil to repeat it or explain, and he was learning quickly. He often became impatient and frustrated with the slowness of his progress, but Phil reminded him that it takes years to properly learn a new language. Dan didn’t give himself enough credit!

So Phil worked hard to keep Dan calm during the fan furor, because he knew Dan really just wanted to return to his rigidly controlled, solitarily produced, carefully manipulated videos with their precise scripts and polished editing … he wanted to go back to what felt safe. And his audience was now hungry to see more of Dan as a person, just goofily interacting with a friend instead of enacting roles in a purposely artificial production.

Dan didn’t want to let people see him as a person. That had never turned out well.

“Except with me,” Phil pointed out impishly. “It turned out well with me, right? I mean, I thought it was going pretty well when we were snogging on the sofa. Was I wrong? Were you really just tolerating my unwelcome advances?” He made a pouty face and Dan rolled his eyes, but it made Dan laugh, which is what Phil had been going for.

Dan came to visit every weekend, and Phil prescribed profuse amounts of kissing to calm his ragged nerves. Phil was more than willing to provide the necessary treatment, and they spent many happy hours just lying on the sofa together learning how to best speed up each other’s breathing and heart rates.

Each visit, Dan left looking a lot more relaxed than when he arrived.

* * *

**17 March 2012**

**Phil:** I’ve got an amazing idea!

 **Dan:** that’s becuse your amazingphil

 **Phil:** haha

 **Phil:** But listen! We both tweet to ask our viewers for questions, and then we do a Q &A video together!

 **Dan:** no

 **Phil:** We can look at all the responses and just choose the ones we want to do.

 **Phil:** It’s not like we’d have to do anything we don’t want to do.

 **Dan:** well i dont want to do it at all

 **Phil:** Dan.

_[a minute passes]_

**Dan:** what

 **Phil:** It could be FUN!

 **Dan:** it doesnt sound like fun

 **Dan:** it sounds like the OPPOSITE of fun

 **Phil:** We could do it when you visit this weekend! :D

 **Dan:** i said no

 **Phil:** And then after we’ve finished filming, we could go to bed.

 **Phil:** In my bed.

 **Phil:** Together.

_[a couples minutes pass]_

**Dan:** yeah?

 **Phil:** Yeah.

 **Dan:** you said you wanted to go slow

 **Phil:** Well, if you’re willing to indulge me by making this video, then it seems only fair that I should indulge you, too.

_[a minute passes]_

**Dan:** what would we do?

 **Phil:** What do you want to do?

_[a minute passes]_

**Dan:** i’m not sure

 **Phil:** Well, how about this. If you’ll make this video with me, then we can sleep in my bed together that night, and you get to decide what we do.

 **Dan:** this is bribery

 **Dan:** this is blatant inappropriately lewd and sexual bribery

 **Phil:** I am unashamed.

 **Phil:** Do we have a deal?

* * *

“u and danisnotonfire should sing a duet of my heart will go on”

Phil laughed when he saw the request. Many of the suggestions he and Dan had received on Twitter had been easy—such as doing impressions of a moth and a worm—but some of his subscribers had a good sense of humor about his deafness and weren’t afraid to tease him about it, such as asking him to sing. He liked that they treated him like any other person instead of … well … something shameful. He was proud to be Deaf, and so he welcomed the challenge.

He knew Dan would probably balk at this one, but he had a great idea for how they could do it.

When he showed the request to Dan, he immediately just shook his head, a grim set to his mouth, and looked away. When Dan refused to look at him, Phil had no way to communicate, so it was the ultimate way of shutting him out.

Phil tapped Dan urgently on the shoulder and gestured to his laptop when Dan finally turned toward him again. Once Dan was looking at the screen, Phil typed quickly, “We’ll play the music, but obviously we won’t sing. Well, we **will** sing, but we’ll sing **our** way. So you’ll hold up signs like in your silent movie videos but with the song lyrics written on, and I’ll sign the lyrics using BSL, and we’ll do it simultaneously.”

Dan had gotten a thoughtful look on his face as the creative part of him caught onto the possibilities and he slowly started nodding, reluctantly at first, but then nodding faster and faster before grabbing the keyboard away from Phil and typing. “i could even record the music myself, make it sound like the tinny silent movie piano i use for my videos.” Phil shrugged at that one. It wouldn’t make any difference to him, of course, but if Dan thought it would be funny, then it was fine with Phil.

So they gathered everything they would need, and when it was time to film, Dan queued up the subtitled Celine Dion song on the laptop to guide him and made sure the cardboard signs in his lap were in the correct order. Phil knew what words were written on each sign, and each time Dan lifted one up it would be Phil’s cue that the next part of the song was starting. He could also watch the video’s subtitles on the laptop in front of them if necessary.

Phil started the video camera recording, he and Dan took their places sitting on Phil’s blue and green duvet, and Dan pressed the play button on Celine. They sat very straight, faces sober, as Dan lifted up one piece of cardboard after another. Knowing what each said, Phil elaborately signed the appropriate lyrics, making increasingly silly and melodramatic faces throughout, while Dan sat stone-faced.

[](https://ic.pics.livejournal.com/kimberly_a/733201/93571/93571_original.jpg)

In editing, they would decide which part was best to keep, as they wouldn’t want to bore their audience with too much of the same joke, but Phil was pretty sure the best bit was the chorus. Dan lifted his cardboard sign that said, “Near, far, wherever you are,” while Phil signed the lyrics simultaneously, making his hand motions ridiculously exaggerated. Dan lifted the next sign, and Phil sighed heavily, gazing moodily into the distance as he signed emotively, “I believe that the heart does go on,” ending by flinging his arms forward in a ridiculous pantomime of longing.

As planned, they stopped at that point and slowly turned to look at each other with dawning creeped-out horror on their faces, then both cracked up laughing.

Their subscribers were going to **love** it.

They decided to make a play on both their channel names and call the video “Phil Is Not On Fire.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The two videos mentioned at the beginning of this chapter would be Deaf Phil's versions of Phil's irl videos "[My First Date!](https://youtu.be/Ff9JyKlL8f0)" & "[Things I thought were true that are not true.](https://youtu.be/GKyT1quPVqM)" I figure this fictional Phil would be making similar types of videos at this point, using sign language and his own customized subtitles.
> 
> In Viviana's amazingly wonderful art piece illustrating this fic's first PINOF, I pondered which sign to have Phil using in the screen capture moment. The official signs that I found for "heart" (such as at [the British Sign Language Dictionary website](https://www.signbsl.com/)) didn't feel right to me. But then I was watching [Jessica Kellgren-Fozard](https://www.youtube.com/user/MissJessicaKH/)'s video "[How To Be A Deaf TV Presenter & YouTuber](https://youtu.be/mc2GMIknK4A)," and when she signed the sentence, ["They made my heart very happy,"](https://youtu.be/mc2GMIknK4A?t=13s) her "heart" sign just felt right to me, so I decided to go with what a real BSL speaker around Phil's own age signed, even if it maybe isn't "official" BSL. (I'm no expert on whether there is BSL slang and such!) So in Viviana's illustration, Phil is using the same sign for "heart" that Jessica Kellgren-Fozard used in her video.


	7. Communication

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan starts to open up a bit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains a brief reference to SimCom (”simultaneous communication”), which is when someone speaks orally and signs at the same time. The practice is a bit controversial, and you can read about it [here](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Simultaneous_communication) if you’re interested.
> 
> I’ve also written **[a Tumblr post](http://adorkablephil.tumblr.com/post/164968695114/some-authors-notes-for-listen-readers)** with a bunch of notes for this fic, discussing stuff about the deaf/Deaf distinction, Deaf culture, sign language, and links to some neat deaf YouTubers. Check it out if you’re interested in the issues and not just Dan and Phil. :)

The first night Dan stayed with him in his bed wasn’t what Phil expected.

Phil got ready first, then waited in his bedroom in his pajamas while Dan took his turn in the bathroom. Thus far, they’d followed their usual pattern for when Dan stayed over, except tonight Dan wouldn’t be going to sleep on the futon.

He came into Phil’s room, face scrubbed bright like a fresh penny, and he wasn’t wearing the t-shirt Phil usually saw him wear when they said good night and went to their separate bedrooms. Bare-chested in his track bottoms, he smiled hesitantly as he walked to where Phil hovered uncertainly near the window.

He needed to make sure that Dan didn’t do anything more than he felt truly comfortable with. Once they were in the bed, it would be pretty weird to text each other, and Dan’s signing still wasn’t the best, and so Dan might not feel able to tell Phil if something made him uncomfortable. Phil needed to make sure that Dan knew that this would all depend on him, on what he wanted, that Phil would let Dan set the pace, that Phil wouldn’t push…

His thoughts derailed as Dan came nearer and Phil smelled his soap and toothpaste. “I want you to know…” he began to sign, but Dan stepped even closer and gently took Phil’s hands in his, stilling their movement. He shook his head slightly, his eyes bright and intense, and just placed Phil’s right palm flat against the smooth, bare skin over his heart, lacing his fingers with Phil’s other hand and squeezing in reassurance. Phil could feel Dan’s heart beating, strong and a little fast, beneath his palm, could feel the warmth of his skin.

Dan leaned in to press his lips to Phil’s, just once, softly, and then pulled away to look into Phil’s eyes before using their clasped hands to lead him toward the bed.

They didn’t need sign language or texts or white boards or any of that. Dan clearly showed how he felt and what he wanted through the arching of his neck, the grasping of his fingers on Phil’s bare back, the glide of skin against skin, the delicate fluttering of his eyelids, the insistent pulling and pushing of Phil’s hands to where he wanted them, the huff of breath against sensitive lips. They knew each other, and they spoke a language that was primal and universal.

They communicated more clearly than they ever had with words.

* * *

As planned, Phil went to the Playlist Live convention in Florida at the end of March, and to Vidcon in Los Angeles at the end of June. He got an interpreter to work with him, as he did at all the major conventions he attended, but this year he was surprised by how many of his fans made earnest attempts at using BSL signs when they met him, and how excited they were at his delight when they did so.

After the initial signing video with Dan had been so popular, Phil had made a couple BSL tutorial videos that taught simple terms like “videos,” “YouTube,” “funny,” “hug,” “selfie,” “thank you,” “happy to meet you,” and various other words, phrases, and sentences that he thought people might see him use at conventions or that they might want to use when meeting him.

But before he even made it to Playlist, just a few days after he’d posted his first BSL tutorial, he encountered a fan in downtown Manchester who signed to him a very slow and clumsy, “I love your videos,” for which he gave her the biggest hug ever. They took a selfie together which he posted on Twitter with an excited tweet about his first time meeting a viewer who signed to him. The tweet got so many likes and retweets that it probably raised his audience’s awareness of how much the issue meant to him.

* * *

At the conventions, fans also gave him artwork and presents for Dan, asking him to pass them along, asking him why Dan hadn’t come. Phil always just shrugged and smiled and promised to tell Dan they said hello.

* * *

While at Vidcon, Phil filmed a couple of collab videos with his friend Shawna, one of the people he’d known since the early days of YouTube. Since she was American, they didn’t get to see each other often except at conventions, so Phil always tried to take advantage of times when they happened to be on the same continent to at least get together and watch some anime, the shared interest that had first drawn them together. This time they had a good time filming a short, funny skit for Shawna’s channel and an exchange of silly convention anecdotes for Phil’s channel.

In late November,  Jessica Kellgren-Fozard DM’d him on Twitter to ask if he’d like to collab on a BSL adaptation of a Christmas song. She’d done a number of BSL adaptations of popular songs on her channel, and after seeing his “singing” in the Phil Is Not On Fire video, she wondered if he’d be interested in trying it her way, especially as they were both in England and it wouldn’t be difficult to get together. The result was a hysterically funny video of Jessica gracefully swaying to music neither of them could hear while Phil awkwardly bounced around beside her as they both signed the lyrics to “Jingle Bells.” Phil looked ridiculous, and he loved it.

He had to admit that from a purely pragmatic standpoint working with Jessica was easier than his other collabs, since she knew BSL and so they communicated effortlessly, but he still enjoyed working with all kinds of people.

Dan, on the other hand, continued to refuse to meet any of Phil’s other YouTuber friends, let alone do collabs or attend conventions.

“If anyone finds out I can’t talk, they’ll want to know why,” he insisted, refusing to discuss it further. He didn’t want to expose himself, make himself vulnerable, which Phil understood, but he thought Dan would probably be a lot happier with more than one real friend in his life.

Dan still spent most of his time interacting with people online, mostly on Twitter, where he responded to more tweets than most popular YouTubers did. His audience clamored more and more loudly and excitedly to get to meet him in person, begging him to come to one of the conventions.

He never responded to those particular tweets.

* * *

“My friend Craig is coming to town next weekend and he’d love to meet you,” Phil signed in a Skype call. Dan’s signing seemed to get better every day. At this point, Phil tended to just sign a little more slowly than normal and trust that Dan would pick up a lot just from context, and that Dan would stop him and ask if he didn’t understand.

Dan looked down, his brows knitted. Phil had known this request would push Dan, challenging him to interact with someone he didn’t know, but he was sure that if Dan met Craig it would go great and boost Dan’s self-confidence.

When Dan looked up again, Phil signed, “He’s hearing, he speaks orally, but he also signs. So you would be able to understand what he says with his voice but also what he says with his hands, and he would be able to understand your signing, too. I’ve known him forever.”

Dan glanced away again, signing sullenly, “My BSL sucks.”

Phil waited for him to look at the screen again. When Dan kept looking into his lap, Phil decided to take advantage of the fact that Dan could hear, picking up a nearby pen and tapping it against the microphone on his laptop.

Dan jumped, looking up to glare at Phil on his screen. “That scared me, you twat!”

Phil shrugged. “You wouldn’t look at me. I was forced to take extreme measures.”

Dan rolled his eyes. Then he signed, “I haven’t talked to anybody but you.” His eyes looked wide and scared.

Phil hurried to reassure him. “Craig is really nice. You’ll like him, I promise. We could invite him over to my flat so it’s somewhere you feel comfortable. And you can just take off to the bedroom if it’s too much. He’ll understand. He’s a nice guy, Dan. And he would really like to meet you while he’s in town.”

“He knows I can’t talk?” Dan asked reluctantly. He looked like a man being dragged to the gallows.

“He knows. He also knows how much I love you. I’ve been raving to him about you for **years**.”

“Is he going to ask why?”

Confused, Phil asked, “Why I love you?”

Dan rolled his eyes, then looked down again while he signed, “Why I don’t talk.”

Phil waited patiently until Dan looked up to meet his eyes again before signing with a gentle smile, “He won’t ask.”

He let a long moment pass as they just looked at each other, then kissed his fingers and pressed them to the camera. After another moment, he added, “But if you ever want to talk about it, I’m here.”

Dan nodded, not meeting Phil’s gaze.

* * *

Phil could practically feel the anxiety radiating off Dan as they sat in the lounge waiting for Craig to arrive. He ran a hand down Dan’s back and leaned over to kiss his cheek. Dan gave him a miserable smile.

“It’s going to be fine,” Phil reassured him. “You’re going to like Craig. I promise.”

Dan jumped at the same time the light flashed to indicate the doorbell ringing. Phil reached over to squeeze Dan’s hand before getting up and going to answer the door. Craig waited in the hall with a wide grin on his face, immediately pulling Phil into a back-slapping hug as soon as the door was open. Phil kept his back to the lounge as he signed quickly, “Dan’s a nervous wreck.”

Craig nodded and signed stealthily, “Leave it to me.” He winked. “I’ve got a plan.”

Knowing Craig as well as he did, with all the scrapes they’d gotten into together, Phil found those words a tiny bit worrying, but he also had faith in Craig’s ability to make friends with pretty much anyone on earth—Craig could probably befriend a postbox if he tried hard enough—and so resolved to give him free reign and see how things went.

They walked into the lounge and Dan stood up from the sofa, wiping his palms on his jeans and then fussing with his fringe before looking toward Craig. When Phil introduced them, Craig held out a hand, and Dan shook it rather formally, then looked around as if not sure what to do next. Phil asked if they’d like drinks, and Craig held up the bottle of wine he’d brought.

“Nothing fancy,” he SimCommed, speaking orally and signing at the same time. “But I thought if we all got a little drunk I might have a chance at beating one of you at a video game later.”

Dan’s lips curved very slightly, but he didn’t crack an actual smile, and he didn’t look directly at Craig. They all went into the kitchen together and helped themselves to glasses of the red wine, then returned to the lounge and sat down. Dan’s back was straight, and he sat much further from Phil than he usually would, his fingers white where they clutched the glass in his hands.

Phil and Craig made small talk, just about the train ride and their parents, and Dan did his best impression of being invisible, just looking into his wine glass and occasionally taking a sip, not even really following the conversation, since he wasn’t watching everything Phil was signing.

Then Craig looked at Dan and said, “I’ve been really looking forward to meeting you, Dan.” Dan looked up at the sound of his name, face startled, clearly feeling on the spot. Craig flicked his eyes over to Phil and smirked. “I can finally tell you all the embarrassing stories about Phil’s past that he wouldn’t want you to hear.”

Oh, Craig had always been clever! Phil had to admit this was a masterful stroke of genius. Dan’s eyes suddenly lit up with interest, and a mischievous grin began to creep over his face. Craig had won him over with just a single sentence. Sneaky!

“What kind of stories?” Dan signed hesitantly.

“Did he ever tell you about the mice?” Craig asked. Phil sighed. Not **this** story again!

Dan shook his head eagerly. “I know about the hamsters, but he never told me anything about mice.” He leaned his elbow on the table, chin on his hand, gazing raptly at Craig, all nervousness forgotten.

“Well, a mouse family moved into Phil’s house when we were … oh, I don’t know … I guess we were about 5? And Phil’s mum is a nice lady, so she got some of those humane traps, you know, the kind where the mouse gets safely trapped inside and then you can let them out somewhere far away where they won’t come back. But Phil…” He glanced over at Phil and grinned. Phil rolled his eyes, and Dan laughed, then looked back at Craig, waiting. “Phil couldn’t stand to see the poor little mice trapped, so every time one would get caught, he would let it out before his mum even knew what he was about. He watched those traps constantly! She thought they just weren’t working.”

Dan laughed again, then signed quickly, “Did she ever catch on?” He seemed completely unselfconscious now, just signing naturally as if he’d known Craig for years. Phil leaned back and let them bond over silly stories about himself. Just seeing Dan so relaxed, talking with someone else … he’d never seen it before, and he tried to hide how proud he was, because he didn’t want Dan to get embarrassed or defensive. So he just sat back and watched, smiling indulgently.

Craig grinned at Dan and continued, “She still doesn’t know to this day, as far as I know.” He glanced questioningly at Phil, who shook his head and shrugged, then chuckled. “But eventually Phil gave it up, because his mum found one of the trapped mice before he could, and she took the little guy out to a local park and let him go. Phil was devastated, totally obsessed with this one mouse all alone by himself out there, so he stopped emptying the traps and let his mum eventually catch all the mice and relocate them to the park, because that way Phil was sure they could all be reunited and none of them would be lonely.”

Dan turned to look at Phil, and his smile was fond and indulgent. He looked back at Craig and asked, “Did the mice ever come back?”

Craig shook his head. “Nope. But we used to go to that park all the time, because Phil wanted to visit them. Whenever we’re back home visiting our parents and we pass that park, we still call it the Mouse Park. Phil says their mouse descendants still live there.”

Dan peppered Craig with questions, requests for more stories, smiling and laughing and just being himself. Phil had known Craig could win him over. Craig could win anybody over.

“You know, it’s funny. Phil and I never would have met if he wasn’t deaf,” Craig commented when there was a comfortable lull in the conversation.

Dan looked curious, glanced at Phil, then asked Craig, “Why?”

Craig explained, “His family used to live in Rossendale, but when he was born and they found out he couldn’t hear … well, they picked up and moved to Manchester. Sold their house, bought the one next door to mine, and that’s how we met, next door neighbors almost since birth.”

Dan looked confused, glancing at Phil. “Why would they move just because you were deaf?” But Phil let Craig continue the story.

“Well, there weren’t any schools for deaf kids in Rossendale, and his parents wanted him to have everything, because you know they’re disgustingly perfect that way. Did he tell you that when we were 7 I asked his parents to adopt me? I’m just lucky my parents never learned enough sign language for him to be able to rat me out. But, hey! His parents always had crisps in the house! And they let us eat pretty much all we wanted! Why would I want to live with **my** parents if I could have **that** instead?”

Dan turned to Phil, looking amazed, and asked, “Your parents moved to Manchester just so you could go to school with other deaf kids?

Phil nodded. “I’m really glad they did, too. Going to the mainstream university at York was good, but I’m glad I got to spend my childhood and teen years with people who understood me better.” He smiled and shrugged. “My parents are pretty great.”

Craig made an exaggeratedly shocked face and asked Dan, “You haven’t met them yet?” Dan shook his head, cheeks getting a bit pink. Phil had suggested it—even requested it—many times, but Dan had been too shy and had always said no. “Oh well,” Craig replied, face gone serious, “you’re going to hate them. Really horrible, horrible people. The absolute **worst**.” Phil punched him in the arm, not enough to hurt, and they both laughed. “ **Monsters!** ” Craig added, and Phil punched his arm again, giggling.

Then somehow Dan and Craig segued into a discussion about Muse and Kanye West and Debussy and Phil got really bored and pulled out his phone and started playing Crossy Road. Dan tapped him on the arm and apologized, “I’m sorry we got so caught up in talking about music. I know you can’t…” But Phil just waved them on.

“It makes me happy to see you discussing it with somebody who actually knows what the heck you’re talking about. I’m fine with my game.” Then he made a shooing motion with his hands, happily encouraging Dan to return to the conversation. Dan hesitated, but after watching Phil’s face closely a moment to make sure, turned back to Craig and began signing animatedly again.

When Craig eventually stretched and seemed like he might be getting ready to leave, Phil asked him, “How long are you in town? Can we get together again before you head back up to Edinburgh?”

“Actually, I have some news,” Craig started, then paused dramatically. Phil just raised his eyebrows in question. “Well, you know how Kelly and I sort of got back together, but we’ve been doing the long-distance thing this past year because my job pays really well but she doesn’t want to move away from her family. Well … the long-distance thing isn’t really working out.” Craig’s face was impossible to read.

Phil wasn’t sure how to respond. Were Craig and Kelly breaking up? They’d dated throughout much of their teen years and Craig had been miserable without her during uni. He’d seemed much happier since they’d started the long-distance relationship, but maybe Phil had been reading him wrong?

The mischief in Craig’s eye gave him a bit of warning, and then Craig said, “So … know any good IT jobs here in Manchester? Or am I going to have to go on the dole and let Kelly support me?”

“You’re moving home?” Phil exclaimed, leaping out of his chair to run over and pull Craig into a hug.

“Well, not ‘home’ as in ‘with mum and dad next door to your parents,’ but yes ‘home’ as in Manchester. So you’ll be stuck seeing me a lot more often.”

The gladness on Dan’s face made Phil’s own happiness at the news only more sweet.

Dan had another friend now.

* * *

About a month later as they started a Skype call, Dan’s eyes looked puffy and red, as if he’d been crying. Phil had never actually seen him cry, so maybe he was wrong, but that’s what it looked like.

“I don’t think I’m going to be able to visit much anymore,” he signed, and then Phil saw the tears spring to Dan’s eyes and knew his first interpretation had been accurate.

“Why?” he asked desperately. “Dan! What’s wrong?”

Dan swiped at his eyes in disgust, obviously embarrassed to be seen crying, and then just signed, “I don’t have enough money.”

Phil knew Dan didn’t make much working in the stockroom at Asda, but there weren’t a lot of companies that would hire someone who didn’t speak. Dan always said it was a miracle that Asda had even been willing to take him on just to unload boxes in the back room. Such an intelligent, creative person … spending his life unloading tins of beans for a pittance.

“Your parents…” Phil didn’t finish the sentence. He knew Dan’s parents had been helping him out with money, since his job paid so little, but he had a bad feeling he knew what Dan was going to say.

“They said … well … my dad said … they aren’t going to … that I don’t need to waste their money … that…” Dan’s tears flowed openly now, and he used his hands to wipe his face so frequently that his signing was difficult to follow.

Phil waved his hand to try to get Dan’s attention, and Dan stopped to stare at him, obviously desolate. “Would it help if I come to meet them? So they know you aren’t just taking a train out to meet some axe murderer every weekend?”

Dan bit his lip and shook his head. “I don’t think it would make any difference.”

“But it’s worth a try, right?” Phil gave his best encouraging smile.

“I don’t think … I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Phil made his most determined face. “Once they meet me and see how irresistible I am, they’ll be begging you to come visit me! They’ll be throwing money at you like at a wild strip club!” He grinned.

Dan laughed weakly, then sort of hiccuped. Probably the result of all the crying. “I’d say it’s impossible, but if anybody could win them over, maybe it’s you.”

* * *

That was how Phil found himself on a train to Reading the next Friday, wearing his nicest shirt and preparing mentally to meet Dan’s parents for the first time. Dan had told him they’d never met a deaf person before, so he was determined to be utterly charming, to make things as easy and comfortable as possible. He was going to win them over, and everything would be fine.

Martyn always did tell him he was unrealistically optimistic.

Martyn had never been so right.

The Howells didn’t meet Phil at the train station, which struck Phil as a bit odd, but he tried not to judge and just followed Dan’s texted bus instructions to get to their house in Wokingham. Once there, he rang the doorbell and straightened his tie.

Yes, he’d even worn a tie. Dan was going to faint when he saw him.

Dan did indeed immediately flick his eyes down to the tie when he opened the door, and he smirked a little bit before letting his face settle back into anxious lines. “Come on in,” he signed, opening the door wide, and Phil stepped over the threshold into what appeared to be a fairly comfortable middle-class home. He didn’t see Dan’s parents anywhere.

He turned to Dan and asked in confusion, “Your parents aren’t here?”

Dan bit his lip and shrugged uncomfortably. “They’re in the lounge.” He gestured for Phil to follow him. They hadn’t bothered to even get up to come meet their guest? Phil started to get a bad feeling.

Mr. Howell sat in a chair that was partially reclined, his feet propped on a foot rest, while Mrs. Howell sat on the sofa nearby, apparently doing a crossword puzzle. They both looked up when Dan led Phil into the room, their faces not particularly welcoming. Phil smiled at them both and typed into his phone, “I’m Phil. It’s very nice to finally meet you both!” He showed the screen first to Dan’s mother, then to Dan’s father, smiling all the while. Then he offered Mr. Howell his right hand to shake.

Dan’s father just looked at Phil’s outstretched hand, then shifted his chair to its upright position and stood to shake Phil’s hand with a firm grip. He didn’t smile. And then he sat back down and slid the chair back to its previous position. He took a newspaper from the side table and opened it as if to read. Phil glanced at Dan’s mum, and she just smiled tightly and then looked back down at her crossword.

Dan shuffled his feet a bit on the carpet, then waved his hands, obviously trying to get their attention. His mother looked up impassively, but Dan’s father rolled his eyes as he lowered his newspaper. Dan gestured between himself and Phil, then pointed back toward some other part of the house. Mr. Howell said something Phil didn’t quite catch, but it looked like part of it was possibly the word “don’t care.” Then he pulled his paper up again, and Phil looked at Dan.

Dan led him through the house toward what Phil was guessing would be his bedroom. He’d seen it in Dan’s videos, though he knew Dan also used the rest of the house for filming when his parents were at work. Dan pulled him inside and closed the door behind them. He looked miserable. “I spend most of my time in here anyway. But I thought they would at least pretend to be nice for five minutes.”

“It’s okay,” Phil assured him. “Maybe they just feel awkward meeting a deaf person for the first time. Maybe they’ll relax when they see I don’t bite.” He tried to smile.

Dan just shook his head. “They’re always like this. But let me show you something,” and his lips curved just the tiniest bit. He opened his door again and looked around the hallway, then led Phil to another room which seemed barely large enough to contain the piano in its center. “It’s my mum’s,” Dan explained. “But I love it.” He sat on the bench and patted for Phil to sit beside him. Dan’s fingers rested on the keys and moved, pressing and gliding in a graceful sort of dance.

Phil watched Dan’s hands for a while, then stood and rested his hip against the side of the piano. He placed his palms flat against the black wood of its lid in illustration, then signed, “Play me something…. Play me ‘Interrupted by Fireworks.’” And they smiled at each other, remembering those first messages back and forth, when they hadn’t known each other at all, when this was all first starting.

Dan’s hands began to move on the keys, and Phil felt the vibration through the wood of the piano lid. After a moment, he leaned over and pressed his cheek to the surface between his palms, his eyes on Dan’s face as his lover shared the precious music with him. Their eyes held, and Dan gave his first genuine smile since Phil had arrived.

* * *

Dinner with the Howells was bizarre. Mrs. Howell prepared spaghetti bolognese, and Phil was shocked when everyone filled their plates and walked into the lounge instead of to the dining room table. Mr. Howell returned to his recliner, Mrs. Howell to her spot on the sofa. Dan and Phil took the other spots on the sofa, sitting side-by-side with their plates of spag bol on their laps. Dan’s father produced a remote from within the folds of his chair and turned on the television. Dan’s parents proceeded to start eating.

Dan typed something into his phone and held it out to his father, who rolled his eyes again but then read the screen. He shook his head and said something, but Phil couldn’t read his lips while he was chewing. Dan typed on his phone again, looking very tense, and then held it out to his father again, but this time Mr. Howell just knocked the phone—and his son’s hand—aside with his elbow and said something else, his eyes never leaving the television.

Dan stared down at his phone for a moment before putting it away and signing to Phil, “He won’t turn on the subtitles. He says they’re too distracting.” Dan looked mortified, so Phil just nodded, then took a bite of his pasta and chewed slowly as they all turned to look at the glowing box in the corner of the room. Phil obviously couldn’t follow the show, so he kept a discreet eye on a very unhappy-looking Dan in his peripheral vision.

When they’d finished eating and everyone had simply placed their empty plates on the coffee table, Dan turned to sign to Phil to explain to him what was happening on the tv show. After only a moment, though, his head jerked toward his father. Phil glanced over and saw that the man was talking. Without the spaghetti complicating things, Phil could read his lips a bit more easily, and he caught a few phrases. His lip reading still wasn’t great, but he was pretty sure he saw “finally have a friend” and “that stupid shit you’re doing with your hands” and “just an embarrassment to this family.” Phil decided he didn’t need to watch anything else that man had to say and turned to look at Dan instead.

Dan’s face, pale and drawn, gazed down at his hands in his lap. He occasionally twitched slightly, presumably at what Phil assumed was a particularly well-aimed barb from his father.

Unsure what to do in this situation, not wanting to be rude to his hosts but also not wanting to sit idly by while Dan suffered some kind of personal attack, Phil wracked his brain. He yawned widely and mimed stretching his arms out as if exhausted, then patted his stomach as if appreciating the fine meal. He smiled widely at everyone and then stacked up the plates to take them to the kitchen. He nudged Dan and raised his brows, gesturing his head toward the kitchen as if asking for help with the washing up. Mrs. Howell started to stand, but Phil put out a hand, shaking his head and smiling his most winning smile, then pointed at himself and Dan, at the dishes, then back toward the kitchen, then smiled again. Her brows were drawn together, but she sat back down, looking distinctly uncomfortable as Phil herded Dan out of the room, their hands full of cups and plates and cutlery.

At the sink, Phil turned to look at Dan again and saw a roiling mixture of hurt, anger, and embarrassment in his brown eyes. Phil turned on the warm water, rinsed the plates, grabbed the bottle of Fairy Liquid and handed it to Dan before signing with wet hands, “So … how would you feel about moving in with me in Manchester?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple of different YouTubers are mentioned in this chapter making collabs with Phil. [Shawna/Nanalew](https://www.youtube.com/user/Nanalew) is one of Phil’s rl YouTuber friends, the person who got him addicted to anime. They did a couple collabs recently when Phil was in the U.S. for the 2017 convention season, and you can watch the one on Phil’s channel [here](https://youtu.be/1QTHNvUa09o). I figured my fictional Deaf Phil would also have made friends with her, since anime would have been something he could comfortably watch with hearing people who would also need the subtitles.
> 
> My reference to Phil making a BSL adaptation of a Christmas song with [Jessica Kellgren-Fozard](https://www.youtube.com/user/MissJessicaKH/) was inspired by her many song videos, but especially her [2011 rendition of “We Wish You A Merry Christmas”](https://youtu.be/10T-UGU46Pc) and her [2015 rendition of the same song with a bit of BSL tutorial](https://youtu.be/o8KXSYvgc_g). But if you really want to see Jessica at the top of her rockin’ BSL song adaptation game, check out one of her recent ones, like [her late-2016 version of Pharrell Williams’s “Happy.”](https://youtu.be/HJnsenDVNEs) Jessica is amazing.


	8. The Definition of "Normal"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan doesn't quite know what the word "normal" even means

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am posting this on the first day of the International Week of the Deaf, which extends from September 18-24, 2017. The theme this year is “Full Inclusion with Sign Language,” and you can learn more about it [here](https://wfdeaf.org/iwd2017-full-inclusion-with-sign-language/). This webpage gives information both in text and in sign language, so you can read a short bit about each of the year’s campaign messages while simultaneously watching someone sign the same information. (Though it’s the **International** Week of the Deaf, I think the signing on the page linked above is in ASL.) I strongly encourage you to check out the webpage and not only learn a bit more about deaf issues but also see a bit of sign language in action!

****A few days later, Phil showed up while Dan’s parents were at work. Dan had the day off … or, rather … he had **all** days off … because he’d quit his Asda job with no notice. His manager had always treated him as if an inability to speak implied intellectual inferiority, so using rather easily interpreted sign language to tell him to shove it had been quite liberating. He’d gleefully reenacted the scene for Phil over Skype when he got home.

So now Dan’s parents had both gone to work for the day, and Dan was home alone. Or at least he was alone until Phil showed up as planned with a lorry, a huge pile of empty boxes, and two of his most muscular friends. He introduced Dan to Reggie and William, and the four of them immediately set to work packing up everything Dan owned as quickly as possible.

Not quickly enough, though, as one of the nosy neighbors must have spied on the boys carrying boxes out to the lorry and had phoned Dan’s dad at work, resulting in Mr. Howell storming into the house to demand what was going on. Phil immediately rushed to Dan’s side, but was surprised to see Dan standing tall and stubborn in the hallway, facing his father, who was actually an inch or two shorter than his adult son.

Dan’s father was yelling something, his face red, eyes bulging, but Dan simply replied in sign language, which only seemed to infuriate his father even more. Phil saw him sign, “If my things don’t belong to me simply because you paid for some of them, then I guess you aren’t really my parent, just my landlord. Wow … it all makes a lot more sense now!” Dan let the sarcasm in his expression show, making sure his dad would get the meaning even though he wouldn’t understand the BSL.

Mr. Howell, shouting and gesturing wildly, stepped to block William as he carried a box toward the front door. William glanced back at Phil, then at Dan. He couldn’t hear a word Dan’s dad was saying, of course, but he’d do whatever Dan and Phil decided. Phil looked at Dan in concern, but Dan merely scowled and nodded to William, signing angrily, “Ignore him.” William grinned and nodded, then neatly sidestepped the older man and carried his box out the door to the lorry.

Dan told Phil, “Go ahead and help with the last few boxes. We’re almost done here.” He turned to look at his father and signed, “I can’t wait to leave this fucking place.” Phil hadn’t taught him that particular word, so he suspected Craig’s sneaky influence.

Dan stood his ground, facing his dad, impassively letting the man rant while the other three young men finished packing up his things and carrying them out, blithely unaffected by the shouting going on. Phil saw both Reggie and William make repeated small gestures of support, giving Dan a thumbs-up sign or clapping him on the shoulder as they passed. Each time, Dan signed to thank them again for helping … and to reiterate that they should just pay no attention to his apoplectic father.

When Dan’s room contained nothing but empty furniture, all personal effects gathered safely and stowed for travel, Phil decided a little show of force wouldn’t go amiss. He gestured to Reg and Will to come with him, and the three of them stood behind Dan who still faced his father. Dan turned to look at Phil, and Phil told him, “We’re ready,” and Dan nodded. Phil rested a hand at the small of Dan’s back, just a small gesture of support, but he saw Dan’s father notice the movement and frown even more deeply. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Will and Reg cross their arms, impressive biceps bulging. There was a reason he’d chosen them out of all his friends. He hadn’t known exactly what they’d be facing today, and he was glad of their intimidating presence backing Dan up.

“You’re a crap father,” Dan signed calmly, looking his dad straight in the face. Mr. Howell rolled his eyes and said something spiteful Phil didn’t quite catch, but the words “crazy hand stuff” figured in there somewhere. Dan just shrugged. “I don’t have to care what you think anymore. And you don’t have to worry about me embarrassing you anymore, either.” Dan looked his father up and down dismissively, then signed, “I know you don’t understand anything I’m saying, but I don’t really care, because you never really tried to understand me in the first place. I’m moving out now, and there’s nothing you can do about it. I left a letter for Mum on the kitchen counter. Have a nice life. Or don’t. It’s nothing to do with me anymore.”

And then Dan shocked Phil by reaching out, taking his hand, and leaning over to kiss Phil lightly on the lips. He turned to look at his father again, the man’s mouth hanging open in appalled surprise, and just smiled smugly, then led Phil to the door and out of the house, Reggie and William following them like protective shadows. Dan’s father seemed frozen in place.

The front of the lorry only had seats for two people, so Dan and Phil sat together on the floor in the back of the lorry, squeezed between boxes of clothing and books and video games and childhood mementos. Now that the adrenaline had passed, Dan trembled in Phil’s arms, but Phil just held him close and stroked his hair and marveled at the display of courage he’d just witnessed.

They hadn’t been able to bring the piano, of course, but in his thoughts Phil swore to the vulnerable boy in his arms that someday, **someday** he would get Dan a piano all his own, and he would watch those graceful fingers dance over the keys every day and watch the ecstasy that shone on Dan’s face when music took him over.

Phil might not be able to hear the notes, but he could experience the music by watching Dan as it moved him, and to him Dan’s music was beautiful.

* * *

Eventually all the boxes were piled haphazardly in Phil’s lounge … except that it wasn’t just **his** lounge anymore, was it? It was **theirs**. His and Dan’s.

“This is **our** lounge,” he said, emphasizing the crucial sign. Then he repeated it, just to make sure Dan understood. “ **Ours**.”

Dan looked around himself in wonder, then looked back at Phil and signed dazedly, “Ours.” And his smile was like the sun for a moment, until he simply wilted, collapsing melodramatically onto the sofa, which they’d kept purposely free of boxes. “Fucking exhausting day,” he signed, and Reggie and William laughed.

“Clearly you’re not the only one teaching this one to sign,” William teased Phil.

Phil shook his head in defeat. “I introduced him to my friend Craig. He’s a bad influence.”

Reggie nodded, “Right. Craig. Hearing guy, right? Signs pretty well. Drinks like a fish.”

Dan sat up suddenly. “Oh! You guys totally helped me today, and I should be thanking you. What do you do when people help you move? I’ve never moved before. You buy people beer and pizza to thank them, right? I mean, I think I saw that on tv. Do you guys want some beer?” He glanced anxiously back and forth from Reg to Will, both of whom looked amused.

Phil commented, “I think that’s the most I’ve ever seen you sign! Anxiety must be a good motivator.”

William shook his head admiringly. “Oh, he was signing up a storm at that dad of his. Must have learned some of **those** signs from Craig, too.” He patted Dan on the back and said, “Good on you, mate. That guy deserved worse than what you gave him, but you gave him hell.”

Dan ducked his head, shrugging uncomfortably. “He just … he’s always been like that. Ever since I stopped …” he glanced around nervously from face to face then look determined, “since I stopped talking.” He crossed his arms defensively, then seemed to realize that he couldn’t talk that way and unfolded them. He signed, “I just couldn’t take it anymore.”

William signed his approval, clapping his hands together in silent applause, then mimed reverent bowing down to Dan over and over again, which Reggie joined in on, until they had Dan giggling.

William stopped goofing off and looked Dan straight in the face, serious, and signed, “No one has the right to treat you that way. You stood your ground, you kept your cool, you told the truth, and you got the fuck out of there. You’re a fucking **survivor** , mate. Don’t forget it. You made it through, and you survived it, and you got out. Good on you. Congratulations.” And then he pulled Dan into a rough sort of laddish hug, complete with back slapping and a quick tousle of Dan’s hair as they pulled apart.

Dan looked a bit disconcerted afterward, but not actually unhappy. He smoothed at his hair and adjusted his fringe, smiling shyly. “So … thank you guys for all your help. Should we … we should get pizza or something to thank you, right? And … beer? You guys probably want beer! Do you want beer?” He seemed very much out of his element, but Phil loved him for how hard he was trying to connect with Reg and Will. Talking to other people was still very new to him, but Phil thought he was doing great.

They ended up ordering a lot of pizza (Will and Reg were big guys and they ate like ravening wolves) and drank Ribena instead of beer while they lay exhausted on the sofa watching _Donnie Darko_. Reg and Will ended up leaving before the movie ended, both declaring that the film made no sense anyway, and wished Dan a happy housewarming. Reg winked broadly when he said that, which made Dan blush and Phil laugh.

And then they were alone. The flat felt different—even with Dan’s things still in boxes, just the awareness that it was now **their** home, instead of just Phil’s home which Dan visited on occasion. This was Dan’s home now, too. Phil pulled him close on **their** sofa and they watched the rest of the film on **their** tv until the activity and emotion of the day caught up with them and they were ready to go to sleep in **their** bed.

They both got into their pajamas, neither having the energy for anything acrobatically romantic tonight, and climbed into bed together, sitting up and facing each other so they could still talk, but with the duvet pulled up over their legs so they could just slide down to sleep whenever they were ready.

Phil said, “We should talk about whether you want to get new stuff for the flat. Like, if you don’t like this duvet, or if you want a different shower curtain or something.” He paused, then continued hesitantly, “Maybe you didn’t get to have things the way you liked them before, but now you do. I want this to be your real home, the place where you feel happy and safe and loved, a place where what you want always matters. Because what you want matters to me **so** much, Dan. Making you happy matters to me **so** much!”

Dan reached out to squeeze Phil’s hand before letting go to sign, “That house never felt like home to me, at least not since maybe when I was a kid. I never felt like I was really home except the times when I came to visit you. But that isn’t about the **flat** , it’s about **you**. **You’re** what feels like home, Phil. So I was already home when we were sitting together in the back of that lorry crushed between all those boxes. You don’t have to do anything to make this feel like home to me, Phil—all you have to do is be here.”

* * *

A few days later, the doorbell rang, causing the light to flash, and Phil didn’t bother to get up. Dan could let the person in, because they were just expecting a delivery from Tesco. Living in such a big city now, Dan had been going out less often, afraid that fans might recognize him on the street, so they were having their groceries delivered. Phil could have done the shopping himself, but … well … lazy.

But Dan didn’t immediately return with several plastic bags full of foodstuffs. Instead, he reemerged with a stunned look on his face and a plate of small cakes in his hands, trailing after Phil’s beaming mum like a lost duckling.

Phil got up off the couch and ran to hug his mum, signing, “What are you doing here? You didn’t tell me you were coming over!” He took the plate of cakes from a very dazed-looking Dan and rushed it into the kitchen to leave it on the counter, then rushed back to the lounge.

His mum was signing to Dan—well probably SimComming actually, as Phil noticed her mouth moving and he’d long ago told her Dan could hear—and Dan just stood there, looking completely overwhelmed.

“I kept asking Phil to bring you over so we could meet you, since you were here in Manchester so often and we live so nearby, but you never came.” She put her hands on her hips, looking disapproving, but then continued signing. “Well, now you’re living here, so I decided that I would just come over and finally get to meet you and simply **insist** that you come to dinner this Sunday, as I’m doing a roast. Everyone will be there, so you can meet Phil’s father and brother as well. Everyone signs, you know, so that won’t be a problem, and I won’t take no for an answer. I even brought cakes in case I needed a bribe. Phil said you like cakes, and I certainly know **he** does!” She glanced smugly at Phil and he shrugged, guilty as charged.

Dan stared at Phil’s mum as if he’d just been run over by a particularly friendly train. Phil had gotten his unblinking stare from her, though, and she simply gazed at Dan without saying anything else, waiting for him to respond.

Eventually, Dan signed hesitantly, “I **do** like cakes. Thank you for bringing them, but you didn’t have to bribe me. I’m grateful for the invitation and of course I would be honored to join your family for dinner. Thank you for asking me.” He smiled, but it looked very strained. Phil could tell he was nervous but trying not to offend this nice lady he’d never met before. His vocabulary had gone all posh, always a sure sign he felt particularly uncomfortable.

Phil’s mum beamed at him and brushed her hands together as if pleased with the accomplishment of some allotted task. “Well, I have a million errands to run, so I should be off, but we’ll see you on Sunday, Dan.” She fingerspelled his name, as Phil had always done when discussing him with his family, a little embarrassed about the soppiness of the name sign he’d been using when talking to Craig and Dan. Then she pulled Dan into a warm hug—Phil knew his mum hugged with as much enthusiasm as he did himself—and Phil saw Dan’s eyes go wide, but he returned the hug awkwardly.

And then, with a last, “Enjoy the cakes, boys!” Phil’s mum had gone as quickly as she’d arrived, and Dan just stared at Phil, obviously in shock.

“I guess you’re coming to dinner on Sunday,” Phil said happily. He’d asked Dan for this several times but Dan had always pled off.

“Yeah, about that,” Dan frowned. “She signed the BSL sign for dinner, but out loud she said ‘tea.’ What’s up with that?”

Phil waved a hand dismissively. “It’s a Northern thing. She means Sunday dinner.”

Dan nodded, still looking a little dazed, and collapsed onto the sofa. He had the look of a man bracing himself for the greatest challenge of his life.

* * *

Dinner with Phil’s family went swimmingly, of course. Everyone in the family but Phil was hearing, but they had also all been using BSL his whole life, so they SimCommed throughout the meal and Phil felt sure Dan could understand everything being said and could participate as much as he liked.

And, to Phil’s surprise, Dan did participate in the conversation. After an initial period of paralyzing shyness, he slowly began commenting on the meal, responding to questions about himself, asking questions about Phil’s childhood, and even discussing his videos.

“We’ve watched you on YouTube,” Phil’s dad admitted. “We were curious about this mysterious young man so important in our son’s life.”

Dan reddened, always so uncertain about the quality of his work, how others would perceive him, worried about criticism or judgment. But of course Phil knew his family wasn’t like that.

“Your style is so unique!” Phil’s mum enthused, but Phil’s dad interrupted.

“Did you know we watched a lot of silent films when Phil was young? Before he was old enough to read subtitles, we watched a lot of the real oldies. Phil’s favorite was always Buster Keaton—always a goof, that one.” He smiled fondly at his son, knowing that the gentle teasing wouldn’t sting. “Kathryn and Martyn and I have often commented how interesting it is that you chose a silent movie style when that was really Phil’s first experience with film. Did you choose that style because of him?”

Dan shook his head. “I didn’t even know about that! When I decided to start making videos, I wanted to … I didn’t want people to know that I can’t talk.” He looked ashamed, but Phil’s mum reached across the table to rest her hand on his, and Dan smiled at her gratefully. “The silent movie theme just seemed like an interesting way to make it seem like … a creative choice, rather than a way of … I don’t know … hiding.”

Phil’s dad shook his head, “You don’t need to hide anything, son. You’re fine just the way you are. But I understand why you would feel self-conscious. I’m glad you found a way to express yourself that felt safe for you.” He glanced at Phil again. “When Phil first started making the videos where he spoke about his life, we knew he might get criticism for being Deaf, for signing in such a public way. A lot of people don’t understand. But we were proud of him for being himself and not letting fear get in his way. Deaf people can do anything hearing people can do, and someone who doesn’t speak orally can do anything, too. Being unable to hear or speak doesn’t affect your opportunities in life. You can do anything you set your mind to, just as Phil can.”

Phil’s mum added, “It’s lovely that you found a way to be so creative and make such lovely videos, but I do hope that someday you feel more comfortable with being who you are, dear. Because there is nothing wrong with you at all. You are a wonderful boy just the way you are.”

Dan quickly excused himself to use the toilet and did not return for some time. Phil’s parents got concerned and asked Phil if they had overstepped, and he assured them that they’d said nothing wrong. He knew Dan well enough to know why he’d fled.

When Dan came back to the table, his eyes were puffy and rimmed with red, and Phil knew he couldn’t be the only one aware of the fact that Dan must have been crying, but none of them commented on the fact. They just changed the subject back to Buster Keaton, asking Dan his opinions on the old silent films, and let the more personal subjects drop.

On the bus home, Dan told Phil, “I’ve never sat around the dinner table and just talked with people. I’ve never had a conversation like that, just … normal. Like I was **normal**. Not since I can remember, anyway. I don’t know how to feel. It’s … it feels overwhelming.”

Phil replied, “I know they can be a bit much, but they really loved you, Dan. I hope you’ll learn to like them, too. They’re important to me, and I’m so happy they finally got to meet you!”

Dan signed emphatically, “I already like them. Tonight, at dinner, they felt more like family than anyone I’m biologically related to. I felt … accepted. You’ve always made me feel that way, but this was the first time I really felt like other people really saw me as a person … not as a freak.”

The expression on his face looked like joy and confusion and healing all wrapped into one, and Phil pulled him into his arms and kissed his lips gently. Another woman on the bus eyed them disapprovingly, and Phil didn’t know if it was because of the kiss or the signing, but he didn’t care a bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this fic is going to be a little longer than planned. This particular chapter became ridiculously long and so I’ve split it into two, which adds a chapter … and I’ve also decided to add an epilogue. So it’s going to be 11 chapters instead of 9. That’s the current plan, anyway.
> 
>  **Additional Note About SimCom:** The main reason that SimCom (speaking orally at the same time as signing) is controversial is that it’s literally communicating in two languages at the same time. Sign language isn’t just a word-for-word translation of a spoken language; it has its own syntax, morphology, structure, and all that. So SimComming is sort of like trying to speak English at the same time as you’re writing the same thing in German (a language with a very different syntax, structure, etc.). Generally, the person’s first/primary language ends up being expressed more effectively than the other, so when a hearing person fluent in BSL speaks at the same time as they sign, they generally do not sign as clearly as they would if they were just focusing on the BSL and not on simultaneously translating, and so deaf people will not receive the communication as well as hearing people will. SimCom is very common, however, among hearing people in the Deaf community, people who became deaf later in life, and people in a group that includes both deaf and hearing folks. Quite a few people in this chapter and the next chapter SimCom for those kinds of reasons.


	9. Survivor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil has a birthday party and Dan has an epiphany

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a sprained ligament in my left foot! So I’m mostly stuck on the couch with a giant boot on my injured foot for the next three weeks, so I’m hoping that means I’ll be putting out lots of fic ... since there’s not a lot else I can do! This story has one more chapter + an epilogue, and then I actually have two other stories I’m pretty excited to write ASAP. I’m highly susceptible to encouragement, so if you cheer me on, you might see a lot of fic from me in the near future. :)

Phil decided to have a small party on his birthday, which sent Dan into a near panic. Phil reassured him that Craig and William and Reggie would all be coming, so it wasn’t like it would be a room full of strangers.

“ **A room full**?” Dan asked, blanching.

“I was thinking maybe just my closest friends. Maybe … 10 people? There are some people from school I haven’t seen in a while, and I’d really like to catch up.”

Dan looked like he might literally vomit.

“They all sign,” Phil assured him. “Well, except that Craig might bring his girlfriend if she wants to come, and he’d have to interpret for her.”

“10 people?” Dan repeated, adjusting his fringe a few times, then rubbing his hand across his forehead and unintentionally messing it up a bit again.

“It’ll be fine,” Phil assured him. “Like I said, some people you already know will be there. Please? For my birthday?” He clasped his hands in entreaty, eyes purposely widened with exaggerated hope.

Dan sighed heavily. “You’re such a manipulative twat. I hate you.”

“No,” Phil replied with a smug little smile, knowing he’d won. “You love me. That’s why you’re going to let me have a party for my birthday.”

Dan let out another melodramatic sigh and just nodded in resignation. Phil did a happy dance.

* * *

Phil pulled his speakers out of the closet and put Dan in charge of the party’s playlist. Since several of his friends could hear well enough to enjoy music if it was loud enough, Phil always made sure to have something playing when he had people over—he just usually didn’t have his own personal DJ. He told Dan to put on whatever he liked, but that he should crank it up. If the neighbors complained … well, then they’d know when to turn it down a bit. As people started arriving, Dan hovered nervously over the music, just occasionally looking up to smile hesitantly at a newcomer.

It was a casual affair, with everyone just sitting or standing around with beverages and snacks, chatting. Craig indeed brought his girlfriend Kelly, and she didn’t know any signs but seemed cheerfully willing to meet new people and attempt conversations anyway. Phil had met her a few times before, back when she and Craig dated when they were younger, so she didn’t have any hang-ups or prejudices about deafness. She did comment to Phil that she was jealous that deaf people could talk and eat at the same time, which made everyone laugh. Craig looked at her like she hung the moon.

Reg, Will, and Craig all enthusiastically greeted Dan, which made him smile with shyly surprised pleasure. Craig introduced him to Kelly, and from what Phil could lip read she seemed to say that she was glad she wasn’t the only hearing person at the party, even if she was the only one who didn’t know how to sign. Craig hugged her and SimCommed that it just meant she would have to stick with him so he could interpret, that it was all part of his nefarious plan to keep her close, and they all laughed.

Without babying him, Phil kept a close eye on Dan, noticing that he moved to perch on the edge of the sofa near the chips and salsa once the music was all set up and he couldn’t really use that as an excuse anymore. Though Phil made the rounds, talking to people he hadn’t seen in a while, receiving birthday wishes, he returned to Dan frequently to sit and chat with him, but Dan didn’t seem to want constant attention, and Phil could respect that. Phil needed to play host and birthday boy tonight, and Dan didn’t want to be at the center of things, but Phil was still happy to finally get to let him meet his friends. When he got compliments on the music, it made him happy to be able to say his boyfriend was responsible.

Phil introduced him to people, one-by-one as they arrived, by just fingerspelling his name, since it was so short. When he’d first introduced Dan to William and Reggie on moving day, he’d explained to Dan that a lot of Deaf people with short names never actually used name signs, but that he’d started using his own personal sign for Dan’s name just out of affection … and they didn’t necessarily need to share it with random guys he was meeting for the first time.

Except now at the party, Craig happened to be standing nearby when Phil introduced Dan to Gemma, and Craig interjected with a grin, “Yeah, but Phil calls him…” and used Phil’s sign with the “D” over his heart.

Harry, sitting next to Gemma, rolled his eyes and signed, “Phil, I’m sorry, but … no. There is just no way I’m calling this guy…” He repeated the “D” over his heart and chuckled.

Dan glanced questioningly at Phil, who explained quickly that the sign might seem a bit flirtatious coming from a stranger or casual friend. Dan looked horribly embarrassed, and Phil turned a murderous look on Craig.

Phil looked back at Harry and Gemma. “Then just fingerspell his name. It’s short. Literally no big deal.”

But William seemed to have seen the conversation from where he’d been standing a ways away, and came over to join in, insisting that Dan deserved a name sign. “It’s like … a badge of honor,” Will asserted. “Like an official declaration that he belongs, even if he’s hearing. He deserves more than fingerspelling. He’s earned it.”

Reg had noticed by this time, too, and came to agree, nodding firmly to Dan. “Don’t worry … we’ll come up with a real name sign for you. Then Phil can just call you whatever he wants … you know, when you two are …  **alone**.” He exaggerated the last sign to make it provocative, making Will shove him as everyone rolled their eyes.

* * *

Late in the evening, with everyone relaxed with a bit of alcohol and a lot of good company, conversation turned back to finding a name sign for Dan. Though he’d mellowed a lot as the evening went on, Dan kept telling them they don’t have to, that the fingerspelling was fine, but they insisted that he was a part of their community now, and it would be like a rite of passage.

Gemma suggested the sign for “dimple,” which made Dan duck his head in self-conscious embarrassment, then with a subtle glance of apology she suggested the sign for “music” instead … but William butted in to insist that he and Reggie knew Dan better than anyone else there besides Phil—he’d forgotten Craig, as they didn’t know each other well—and he said he had a better suggestion. What did Phil and Reg think of this? And he signed beside his cheek the sign for “survivor.”

Others at the party looked a bit confused, but Dan just went completely still. Reggie immediately and emphatically signed that they couldn’t possibly come up with a better name, and Phil nodded, feeling tears spring to his eyes, tears that matched the ones he saw in Dan’s eyes too. He knew that Dan would bolt out of the room any minute … but was surprised when he didn’t. Instead, he faced William squarely and signed, “I’m honored that you would think I deserve that name, and if the others think it fits, then I’ll try to live up to it.”

Then Phil watched Dan look around at the others, most of whom he’d never met before tonight, most of whom didn’t really understand precisely what was going on except that a name like that meant something important. And Phil saw his friends, his closest friends, some of whom he’d known from childhood, from when he first started at the Deaf school—good people, some of the best people he knew, people he loved—he watched them smile kindly at Dan, saw several of them repeat the new name sign along with “Welcome” and “Congratulations” and, most touchingly, Gemma signing—without knowing the details behind the sign William had given Dan—“You’re safe now.” And then she got up to give him a hug.

Some tears clung to Dan’s lashes when she pulled away, but he dashed them away with an awkward laugh. “I just didn’t expect all this,” he signed to the room at large, as everyone seemed to be looking at him. Suddenly he really was the center of attention, but he wasn’t shrinking from it.

“No hope for you now,” Reggie signed with a smirk. “You’re stuck with the lot of us forever. We’ve claimed you for our own.” Then he stood and held his arms open, offering a hug but not forcing it on Dan. Still, it would have been rude to just leave him standing there, and Phil knew Dan feared seeming rude even more than he feared hugging people, so Dan stood and accepted Reggie’s quick but firm squeeze. He patted Dan’s cheek, then signed Dan’s new sign name and nodded in decided approval.

Dan seemed to suddenly become aware of the number of eyes on him, and with a quick smile he retreated to the seat beside Phil on the sofa, sitting so close to him that their thighs pressed together tightly. He leaned in and pressed his face into the space just above Phil’s t-shirt where his shoulder met his neck, and Phil felt wetness against his bare skin there. Phil quickly encouraged everyone to just continue with what they’d been doing, explaining that Dan needed a minute, and they gave Dan his moment of privacy to absorb all that had happened.

Without pulling away, Dan signed, “I love you so much,” and his lips touched Phil’s neck lightly, in just the softest caress. “Thank you.” Phil watched Dan’s hands out of the corner of his eye, not wanting to move his head and dislodge the boy taking shelter against him, but Dan’s meaning was easy to read.

Some of Phil’s friends cast discreet but fond glances toward them as he stroked Dan’s hair gently, and Phil knew it was probably because they’d never seen him look so happy before, not during all the years they’d known him. Because he never had been.

* * *

Later that night, when Dan lay beside him in their bed with the amorous sweat cooling on both their bodies, Phil smiled at the glowing face of this boy he loved so much.

“This was the best night of my life,” Dan signed, face somehow simultaneously solemn and full of joy.

Phil raised a teasing eyebrow. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” and he gestured at their naked bodies lying among the disastrously tangled sheets.

Dan rolled his eyes and laughed. “Well, yeah, that too.” They both grinned, and Dan leaned forward for a lingering kiss. Phil ran a hand down the smooth skin of Dan’s arm, just enjoying their private closeness after what had been such an emotionally intense evening. He’d known it would challenge Dan to be around so many people—something he hadn’t really done since childhood—but Phil hadn’t predicted Dan being given his sign name, or that it would be something so validating. For someone who had felt so excluded, so alone, for so long, it must have been overwhelming.

Hence the rather intense emotionally outpouring in the bedroom once everyone had left.

“I feel more like  **me**  now, if that makes any sense.” Dan’s hands were hesitant as he signed the words, as if he worried that Phil wouldn’t understand and was preparing himself to be embarrassed. “Like I’ve been given back some piece of myself that’s been missing a long time.”

Phil pressed his palms to both Dan’s cheeks and kissed him again, then again for a little longer, their lips sweet and gentle against each other. Then he pulled away and told Dan, “It makes perfect sense.” Then he pulled Dan into his arms and they just held each other for long moments, until Phil felt his eyes growing heavy.

“Ready to turn off the light?” he asked. They usually kept the light on as long as reading each other’s facial expressions, body language, or actual signing might be useful. Turning off the light generally indicated sleep time.

Dan nodded, and Phil leaned to switch off the lamp beside the bed. But when he lay down to face his lover, Dan didn’t cuddle into his arms or turn to spoon as they usually would. Instead, he continued to lay facing Phil, and then reached out to take Phil’s hands.

Dan’s fingers were trembling.

And then he was signing, keeping Phil’s hands on his so that Phil could understand what he was saying in the dark.

“Would you still love me if I could talk?”

Phil really wanted to turn on the lamp so that he could see Dan’s face, but he knew Dan must have had a reason for preferring to ask this in the dark, so he didn’t suggest it. Did Dan think their relationship depended on some kind of vow of silence? He’d loved Dan before they’d ever met, when he’d known Dan was hearing and had assumed he could speak, before he’d ever  **known**  that Dan couldn’t talk.

Knowing that Dan’s BSL skills, though impressive now, probably still weren’t quite good enough for him to be able to read Phil’s signing purely by touch in the dark, Phil instead pressed Dan’s hands to either side of his head and nodded firmly, then pressed one of Dan’s palms to his lips in a tender kiss that he hoped would say everything he couldn’t with words.

Dan held Phil’s hands loosely in his again so that he could feel him signing. “I’ve been afraid for so long. But after tonight, I’m not so afraid.” Phil just held his hands for a long moment, just feeling grateful to his friends for all that they’d given Dan today. “I think I want to try.” And then Dan wrapped his arms around Phil’s body and pressed close, cuddling into him, kissing his shoulder, and Phil pulled him even closer and held him tight, as if he were the most precious thing in the world, which he was.

* * *

The NHS moves at a glacial pace, and so Dan’s appointment with a counselor was set for 4 weeks later. In the intervening time, he seemed jittery but determined. He didn’t talk to Phil about his thoughts and concerns except in general ways.

“Maybe there’s something … something they could do. To help. Maybe. If they tried.”

“Maybe I could talk again if I really tried, if they know what’s wrong.”

“I wouldn’t mind just signing, I like signing, but I still feel like there’s something wrong with me. Something that needs to be fixed. If they can.”

“I don’t like feeling … defective. Like it’s my fault I can’t talk.”

Nothing Phil said seemed to help, so he tried to just offer wordless support, as cuddles and kisses seemed to settle Dan’s nerves more than talking did.

* * *

The night before his first appointment with the counselor, they were watching tv when Dan abruptly picked up the remote and paused the show. “Can I talk to you?” he asked, looking nervous. Phil nodded. Of course Dan could talk to him! He could always talk to him about anything.

“Tomorrow I know the counselor is going to ask me lots of questions, and…” Dan bit his lip, looking away and then back at Phil. “There are things I’d rather tell you first, instead of them. Stuff I should have explained before now, because I know I can trust you, but I’ve just been so scared for so long, and I haven’t told anybody about this.” He swallowed, looked down, then looked back up at Phil. “Ever.”

He hesitated. He looked like a frightened child, his brown eyes were wide and vulnerable. “But I feel safe with you.”

Dan paused again, clearly taking a moment to gather his courage, and Phil braced himself for what he was about to learn. He didn’t know what Dan was going to tell him, but he knew it wouldn’t be pleasant.

“It was my football coach,” Dan signed abruptly. “My dad made me play football when I was a kid, even though I hated it. He said all boys are supposed to like football, that it would toughen me up, so he made me go. And then one day, I forgot my bag, and I went back after practice to get it, and I saw…” Dan trailed off, looking away as if in a fog, but then shook his head a little before straightening up with obvious determination and continuing, “and the coach … he said if I ever told anybody what I saw, that he would kill me.” Phil gasped. He imagined a tiny 8-year-old Dan, faced with a grown man threatening to  **murder**  him. And if what little he’d seen of Dan’s family was any indication, he wouldn’t have received much comfort there.

“He said he would come into my bedroom at night and he would kill me,” Dan continued, his face pale and tense, “and nobody would ever even know it was him. So I went to bed every night terrified, worried that he might think I’d told somebody, even though I never did, and that he might come to kill me. Every night. Because he told me how he would do it, he told me in detail how he would do it, how he would kill me,  **exactly**  how he would do it, and I was so scared, Phil!”

Dan physically launched himself at Phil and clung to him, shaking, and Phil held him as tightly as possible, trying to ground him, unable to comfort him with words and so doing his best to remind him with the staunchness of his grip that Dan was safe, pressing soft kisses to his hair and humming low in his throat, unsure if the noise might sound comforting to Dan, but it felt like a comforting thing to do. Like an animal instinct.

When Dan slowly extricated himself from the embrace, he wiped his face and looked around for a tissue. Phil went to fetch him a paper towel from the kitchen, and Dan blew his nose rather spectacularly. Finally, after what seemed like ages, Dan met Phil’s eyes again.

Phil wasn’t sure if he should ask any questions, or if Dan had gone through enough already tonight. But he wanted to know. He stroked a hand across Dan’s hair, smoothing it, adjusting his fringe, trying to calm him as much as possible, and then asked, “Is that why you stopped talking? Because you were afraid he’d think you told somebody?”

Dan clenched his eyes shut, then opened them to gaze at Phil again. He looked sad now, defeated and guilty, as if he’d done something terrible, when really he was the one who had been wronged! “I didn’t really mean to stop,” Dan explained, looking ashamed. “I mean, I was really freaked out, and I guess I was quiet for a few days, and then … I just … I couldn’t talk anymore. When I tried, nothing would come out. My parents took me to the doctor, and they ran all kinds of tests, and they said there was nothing wrong with me, so everybody said I was faking. My teachers and my parents and everybody. But I tried. I really tried! And the words just … wouldn’t come out. I couldn’t talk. I just … couldn’t.”

Phil could guess at a lot of the rest, having met Dan’s family—his father, in particular. He’d probably accused 8-year-old Dan of faking to get attention. His son was there, traumatized, alone and scared, and Mr. Howell only worried what the neighbors might say. Some of the things Dan’s dad had said on moving day made more sense now, how he’d referred to Dan’s YouTube videos is “more proof” that he was just “trying to get attention.” Phil had thought it referred to some more general bizarre criticism of Dan’s excessively shy personality, but now he saw that it had probably referred to the muteness specifically, that Dan had probably been being subjected to that same painful accusation for most of his life. No wonder he blamed himself—it was what he’d been taught from the people he should have been able to trust most.

“It’s not your fault,” Phil signed, and reached to gently grasp Dan’s chin when he tried to turn away. Holding Dan’s face lightly, encouraging him to meet his eyes, Phil signed awkwardly with his other hand, “You weren’t faking then. You aren’t faking now. None of this has been your fault. None of it.”

Dan pulled him close and Phil held him for a long time, just lying there on the sofa together and taking comfort in each other’s warm presence. Dan seemed completely drained by the conversation and was soon limp enough that Phil wondered if he had fallen asleep.

Phil couldn’t help but think about his own parents, how they had moved to Manchester when he was born just to give him a better chance in life, how they had both immediately started learning to sign so that they could communicate with him from the very start … how they had always been there for him. He thought about how lucky he had been his whole life without realizing it, and determined that life was going to be that lucky for Dan, too, from this day forward, if Phil had anything to say about it.

* * *

When Dan got home from his first counseling appointment, he immediately crawled into Phil’s lap on the sofa and just cuddled there for several minutes without talking. Phil rubbed his hands gently along Dan’s back and through his hair, cradling him as long as he needed.

Finally, Dan pulled away to sign, “They said it’s something called a ‘conversion disorder.’” He fingerspelled it. Phil wasn’t surprised at the term. He’d done some Google searches and had wondered if that might be what was going on. Previously, Dan had said that the doctors found nothing physically wrong when he was a kid, and someone suddenly losing the ability to speak after a traumatic experience … he didn’t know if Dan had done the same research, but Phil himself wasn’t surprised. He was concerned, though, as the websites he’d read had indicated that sometimes conversion disorder symptoms were permanent. Dan might not be able to speak again, even if the doctors did everything right.

Dan gestured to a bag he’d dropped on the floor. “And they prescribed me some pills.”

Phil frowned in confusion. “Pills are going to help you talk?”

“They’re for anxiety. And they want me to see a counselor again. Probably a few times. It might work, or it might not. They said they might not be able to help. Something about trauma, and maybe some kind of specialist. And they also talked about a speech therapist. I think I might have to go to London for some of that.” Dan’s breathing had sped up and he now seemed on the verge of hyperventilating. Phil found himself grateful for the anti-anxiety pills currently lying in the bag on the floor—they seemed like a very good idea right now. Today had obviously been a bit much for Dan to handle, and Phil cursed himself for not insisting on going with him despite Dan’s protestations.

The idea of Dan traveling to London for treatment seemed preposterous when Phil usually couldn’t even persuade him to go to Tesco, so he wasn’t surprised Dan was reacting this intensely. It must have all been completely overwhelming.

So … time for boyfriend triage.

Phil gave him a quick squeeze and smiled reassuringly, signing, “How about curry for dinner? We’ll order from that place you like. After a day like this, a good curry, a cuddle on the sofa, and some ‘Attack on Titan’ sound like an excellent evening plan. What do you think?” He kissed Dan’s cheek and stroked his hands up and down Dan’s tense arms, trying to calm him. When Dan’s shoulders had unclenched the tiniest bit, Phil ventured to suggest, “And maybe we should look at those pills? This might be a good time to take one, since it’s been such a hard day.”

Dan nodded, just the slightest movement of his head, his entire body still a knot of tension, so Phil got up to get the bag and opened it up: “venlafaxine.” He would Google it when Dan wasn’t self-consciously hovering nearby. The bottle said to take the pills with food, so he set it aside for now and just went online to place their usual order from Dan’s favorite Indian place. “We’ll wait until the food gets here, and then you can take the first pill. Maybe they’ll help. It’s worth a try, right?”

Sad brown eyes looked up at him from where Dan had slumped down on the sofa. “I don’t know. I always assumed nothing could help.” His hands fell limply into his lap as if he had nothing more to say.

Phil reached out to take his hands, then lifted them each, one by one, to place a kiss on every finger. It only took 6 fingers before he had Dan chuckling at the soppiness of the gesture, but he noticed that Dan didn’t pull his hands away. Phil ended with a kiss to each palm. “Things have changed. Your life has changed. I don’t see why this can’t change, too.” One last kiss to Dan’s lips, lips that clung to his for a moment, which Phil took as an indication that Dan was regaining a bit of his composure.

Looking up at him through his lashes, Dan asked hesitantly, “Would it bother you if I could talk, even though you still wouldn’t be able to hear me?”

Phil actually laughed. “Why would it bother me? We’re not living in some kind of silent monastery … at least I hope not! I had plans for later!” He eyed Dan suggestively up and down, making them both snicker. “If you want to talk and someone can help you, then I say we do everything we can to make that happen.”

“It’s just … learning to sign … meeting you and your family and friends … it’s changed my whole life. I’ve never had people just talk to me like a normal person instead of treating me like some kind of hypochondriac freak. I don’t want to seem … ungrateful.” Dan shrugged, obviously uncomfortable.

“Maybe finally being around people who accept and support you just … helped you get to the point where you were ready to think about this … about trying,” Phil suggested. “I think that’s a  **good**  thing, that it helped give you courage. It doesn’t make you disloyal or anything. Don’t ever worry about that.” Phil kissed his lips again, lingering a bit this time for the additional reassurance.

When he pulled away, Dan was finally smiling. He gazed intently into Phil’s eyes and declared with firm gestures, “I’m ready to try. But whether or not I’m ever able to speak orally again, to be honest it doesn’t really matter that much to me anymore.” This time he was the one who took Phil’s hands and kissed them before continuing. “I do want to try, but no matter what happens, Phil, you already gave me my voice back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Name signs, at least in ASL, apparently most commonly pertain to something about a person’s appearance or habitual behavior. So, for example, name signs that reference dimples or glasses are common. So the emotionally loaded name sign given to Dan in this chapter might not be realistic in the real-world Deaf community, but it felt appropriate for the story I’m telling and played a crucial role in Dan’s growth and change as a character.
> 
> Also, I discovered a vlog that some readers of this fic might like to watch, about a Deaf guy and hearing girl who met in high school, and how they ended up together (despite the fact that he doesn’t talk and she didn’t know any ASL when they met). They’re a really cute couple, and it’s adorable to hear about how they managed to communicate and get to know each other. You can watch the video [here](https://youtu.be/WrpCJLtM4q0). They also made a longer video on the same topic, which was a live Q&A, which you can watch [here](https://youtu.be/1LQsvNUJk4U). Sadly, they don’t seem to post videos to their channel very often anymore, but a lot of their old vlogs are worth a watch! They tend to focus primarily on what it’s like for a Deaf person and a hearing person to be in a relationship together.


	10. Coming Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan's secret is revealed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tremendous enormous gazillions of thanks to Viviana ([@vivianadichiara](http://vivianadichiara.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr and [@vividc_art](https://twitter.com/vividc_art) on Twitter) for the amazing artwork she created for this chapter. We ended up collaborating on it pretty extensively, and she showed such patience with my vague requests that she may in fact now qualify for sainthood.

After Dan’s emotional reaction to the first counseling session, Phil insisted on going with him to the second session. He would just browse in a nearby bookstore and pick Dan up afterward. It sounded so simple, so supportive, so obviously the right thing to do.

And it ended up so disastrously wrong.

They got to the clinic fine, Dan had his counseling session, Phil met up with him after and he seemed less overwhelmed than the first time but still very contemplative. But then they walked to the bus stop to head home, and that’s when it happened.

Phil was happy and proud to be Deaf, but … well … he had to admit that some kind of distant early warning system to alert him to incoming fans would sometimes be helpful. The expressions on their faces and the movements of their mouths usually seemed to indicate a fair amount of enthusiastic squealing, but he of course never heard it coming.

And that’s why Phil was blithely strolling along the pavement toward the bus stop, completely uncomprehending when Dan suddenly flinched, stiffened, and began looking around as if seeking a convenient shrubbery to hide behind. Then Phil saw the three teenage girls, one of them even wearing AmazingPhil merch, rapidly approaching them. Phil signed quickly to Dan, “It’ll be okay. Just smile and act shy.” Dan bit his lip, his face pale as chalk. Phil knew this was one of Dan’s worst nightmares, being recognized on the street, having fans find out that he couldn’t talk … so Phil tried to run interference as best he could.

The girls obviously recognized both of them, and the three chattered so quickly that Phil couldn’t possibly have read their lips. Lip reading when someone was speaking slowly and clearly, directly facing him in good lighting was hard enough—these three teenage girls babbled excitedly to each other something that didn’t even look like language. It was true that some of his fans had enthusiastically embraced the BSL on his channel, but others just seemed to skip those videos. These particular girls unfortunately seemed to fall into the second category, as they made no attempt to communicate with him in a way that accommodated his inability to hear. But Phil smiled, and signed hello, and offered warm hugs. He really did love his subscribers … even when they were scaring the pants off Dan like they were right now.

When the girls looked to Dan, he smiled and waved and offered awkward hugs, making sure to accentuate his dimples in the selfies they all took together, so maybe one of the girls had said something about them? Phil hadn’t picked up on it. Dan kept subtly moving to stand slightly behind Phil, smiling and nodding while Phil could sense his body tension growing by the second.

Phil extricated them from the situation as quickly as he could, and only moments later they were waving goodbye to the girls, who still had their phones pointed toward them as they strode away as fast as their long legs could take them without making them look like they were actually fleeing the scene. Which, let’s be honest, they **were**.

By the time they got home, it was already all over Twitter. Fans had occasionally posted blurry photos of possible Dan sightings, but no one had ever actually gotten to **meet** him in person. The fans were going absolutely insane over the selfies the girls had posted, the very first real selfies with **Danisnotonfire**!

But they were also tweeting wildly about the fact that Dan hadn’t said anything the entire time. The girls pointed out that he hadn’t even said hello or answered a single question they asked him. The tweets were getting tons of replies. The fans were working themselves into a frenzy.

Some tweeted that maybe Dan was just shy, and that’s why no one had gotten to meet him before this.

Some tweeted that maybe Dan chose to communicate through BSL out of respect for Phil, since they were flatmates.

Some tweeted that maybe Dan was deaf, too.

Some tweeted that maybe Dan was just rude and didn’t care about his fans.

Some tweeted conspiracy theories, criticized Dan for imagined wrongs, spiraling off into the usual internet craziness.

Dan threw his phone on the sofa and went straight to bed, pulling the duvet up over his head. Phil sat on the side of the mattress and gently patted and stroked the lump that was his hidden beloved, but he couldn’t talk to him when Dan wouldn’t look at him. When Dan eventually shrugged away from his touch, Phil didn’t take it personally. He knew Dan just needed some space. He pressed a kiss to the part of the duvet that he thought was around where Dan’s head should be and then left him to calm down on his own. He would come find Phil again when he was ready.

In the meantime, Phil put Dan’s phone in its charger and sat down on the sofa, wondering what Dan would decide to do.

* * *

Over the next two days, the online theory that Dan was deaf grew exponentially. Fans pointed out his silent videos, the sign language collabs with Phil, his refusal to attend conventions, and other random “evidence.” Dan’s fans on Twitter and Tumblr were in a full-blown hysteria. For years they’d been watching his videos but no one had ever met him, and now someone had … and yet he was somehow even **more** mysterious than before?

After a lot of obvious but solitary angsting, Dan finally decided to address the question directly. Phil sat beside him as Dan crafted a tweet, editing it over and over again, wanting no typos this time, nothing to make him look stupider than he already obviously felt. Phil could tell he was trying to be brave, but that he was being hard on himself at the same time.

Phil tapped his arm to interrupt the death glare he was directing at the Twitter app on his phone screen, and when Dan looked at him Phil signed, “Don’t forget who you are.” And then he signed Dan’s name sign. First the one that their friends had given him, reminding him of his strength and courage … and then, with a gentle smile, the “D” over his heart. It brought a soft smile to Dan’s lips, and they kissed gently. “Ready to tweet?” Phil asked afterward. Dan took a deep breath and sighed it out slowly, adjusted his fringe, and then nodded grimly.

Phil’s phone vibrated in his hand, alerting him to Dan’s new tweet: “i'm not deaf, just can’t speak. i prefer not to talk about it, no pun intended. please respect that”

Dan looked at Phil, and his expression clearly said that he knew as well as Phil did that it wouldn’t end there.

* * *

Dan was barraged with questions, not only on Twitter, but also in comments on his previous videos and on all of his social media sites. Fans couldn’t leave it alone. He’d asked them to respect his privacy, but “respect” wasn’t a term Phil would use to describe how Dan was being treated.

Why didn’t Dan talk? What was wrong with him? Why didn’t he want to discuss it? Why wouldn’t he explain? What was the big secret? What was the big deal? Why what why what why why why WHY?

Their fanbases overlapped a lot by this time, and Phil still felt a great affection for his subscribers, but he also wanted to somehow convince them all to just leave Dan alone, to stop acting as if they were somehow entitled to know every emotional detail of Dan’s life just because he made YouTube videos. Dan had never promised to reveal everything about his life to them, and they had no right to ask or—even worse— **expect** it.

Dan stopped leaving the house again, canceling his counseling sessions, and basically disappeared from the internet, no longer responding to any tweets or comments. He ghosted around the flat like he barely even saw anything around him. He still showed affection to Phil, but it was dampened somehow. When they kissed or touched, Dan seemed only partially present, the rest of him retracted into a protected world of his own.

Phil didn’t want to overwhelm Dan when he already seemed so withdrawn, but he also wanted Dan to remember that he wasn’t alone in this, that he had people who cared about him and accepted him, people who weren’t grabbing at him or asking for more than he wanted to give, people who just enjoyed him for the person he was without making demands. So Phil texted Craig and William and Reggie and Gemma and even his parents, and asked that they not make a big deal about it but maybe just remind Dan that they were there for him. He didn’t mention what was happening online.

Phil’s mum, of course, arrived that very evening with another plate of cakes, even more cakes than the first time. She said nothing about Phil’s text to her, but just said that she hadn’t seen her boys in too long—it had been about three weeks—and so she’d decided to drop in. Dan’s signing had gotten good enough that she didn’t SimCom with them anymore, and so the three of them just sat in the lounge signing and eating cakes. Phil’s mum kept telling ridiculous stories about holidays she’d gone on when she was young, kitchen misadventures over the years, ill-advised hairstyle choices, just any random thing that came into her head. Dan’s moping couldn’t withstand her upbeat chatty affection, and Phil saw him smile a true grin for the first time since the fan encounter on the street.

When she left, Phil’s mum took Dan’s face between her hands and kissed him soundly on the cheek before hugging him tightly. “You are a brave and wonderful boy,” she signed to him. “I am so proud of you, and we are so lucky that Phil brought you into our lives.” She hugged him again, longer than Dan would usually tolerate, and then left them to their privacy.

Dan seemed a little less ghostly afterward.

Phil saw Dan glancing with a slight smile at his phone occasionally over the next couple days and hoped that meant friends were contacting him. He also hoped he hadn’t overdone it, that he hadn’t triggered a waterfall of supportive texts that would overwhelm Dan and cause him to withdraw further again. But that didn’t seem to happen.

A few days after Phil’s mum’s visit, Dan got up one morning and suggested over cereal, “Maybe we could have some people over sometime soon, just something casual, just to see everybody.” He didn’t look at Phil when he signed it.

Phil tapped him on the arm to get Dan to look at him and signed, “That sounds nice. Maybe have people over for a movie or something?” That sounded like a fairly low-energy social event that shouldn’t be too emotionally taxing.

Dan smiled and nodded. “Maybe just … how about William and Craig…” he paused, “and I guess if we invite Will then Reg would be offended if we didn’t include him, too.” He grinned. Of course he would want to invite Reggie, but a bit of teasing was par for the course with them.

Phil nodded agreeably. “And maybe just Craig this time, not Kelly. Just us lads.” The sign made them both laugh. William and Reggie might be a bit on the laddish side, but Dan and Phil certainly weren’t. But the idea of just a few good friends getting together warmed Phil’s heart … primarily because he hoped it would warm Dan’s as well.

* * *

Dan had always been very private about the making of his videos, and he had always played all the different roles in the various sketches he created, which was what made this time so different. He told Phil that he had decided to tell his story, and he asked several of their friends for help playing other characters in the tale.

The video, when it was finished, took Phil’s breath away.

Dan had chosen to answer the fan frenzy in his own way, in his own language, through his art, revealing his own truth and making himself vulnerable in ways Phil could never have imagined even a year ago.

It was the bravest thing he’d ever seen.

The early scenes of the video looked like Dan’s usual black-and-white style, but instead of the usual self-deprecatingly humorous skits, the video told an emotionally harrowing story of a boy haunted by shadowy figures that pointed and laughed, taunted and rejected, chided and blamed—a lonely boy surrounded by a dark, threatening world. The serious tone set this video apart from all Dan’s previous work. He created a sense of silent, lurking menace, with a boy at the center who could not speak.

In editing, Dan had gone through every second of the video to blur the mouth of his central character, the young Dan. Unlike in the previous videos, this Dan did not mouth words that were then presented on title cards as quotes. This Dan’s mouth never moved and was never fully visible … as if it had been rubbed out, erased. The title cards provided only minimal plot narration and commentary, no dialogue.

He told a story of a boy ashamed of being different, a boy unable to connect with a world that treated him like a freak. A boy the world did not love and who therefore did not love himself. A boy who lived inside the world, but disconnected from it, deprived of any solace.

But then everything began to shift, and suddenly, slowly, color entered one of Dan’s videos.

He told the story of that isolated boy discovering sign language, of people reaching out to him and accepting him, of the boy finally seeing the black-and-white world explode into a thousand beautiful colors.

It showed the boy’s world becoming filled with communication and connection, subtitles in vivid hues reflecting the brilliance of the ability to finally engage in what everyone else had always found easy: a simple conversation among friends.

The video ended with a world in which Dan’s mouth was no longer blurred but was instead smiling as he spoke fluidly with his hands.

 

The raw emotion of the final product made this not just any YouTube video—Phil considered this one of the most beautiful short films he’d ever seen, and he told Dan so. What he didn’t tell Dan was that he fully intended to reach out to his old film school connections and try to bring this work to the attention of the people who could give it the respect and public appreciation it deserved.

Dan said he just wanted to tell his story, and that he felt he’d done that, and that he hoped his viewers would understand the message he was trying to communicate. His face shown with a sort of inner peace Phil had never seen from him before.

* * *

A week after uploading the video, Dan approached Phil with a surprising idea. “Lots of other YouTubers do live shows. We could do that, if Craig would maybe interpret for us.” Phil just blinked in shock. This sounded like the exact opposite of something Dan would want to do! Dan shrugged slightly and smiled, admitting sheepishly, “I sort of already texted him to ask him if he might be willing to do it, and he said yes.”

“You really want to do this?” Phil asked, but something seemed to have changed in Dan during the making of the video that told the story of his journey, as if he had fully embraced this new, happier life. As if he had left something behind, as if some weight had been lifted, just by his being able to finally speak his own truth in his own voice, through the lens of his camera.

So they arranged it with Craig and announced in advance on both their Twitter accounts that they would be doing a joint live show with a voiceover interpreter. When the evening came and they both nervously settled down in front of the webcam with Craig behind it, Phil wasn’t sure what to expect. Had a Deaf YouTuber ever done a live show before? Would anyone even want to watch it? Would it work, having Craig interpreting for them behind the scenes moment-by-moment?

They had a bit of trouble figuring out how to get things going on YouNow, but once they got it working Phil saw the number of viewers climb rapidly, and greetings and questions flowed into the chat. Apparently, their fans found this new, more accessible medium exciting. Phil pointed at something he’d seen in the chat, then signed, “alittledizzy wants Dan to know that he’s stealing Phil’s branding by creating such an AMAZING video last week.” Phil fingerspelled AMAZING to emphasize it, and so Craig made a crazy face and exaggerated mouth movements when he translated out loud for their viewers, which Phil took to mean he was orally attempting to get across the tone of Phil’s signing as well as the words.

Dan, obviously wanting to deflect the flattering attention away from himself, pointed at the chat and signed, “googleniall wants to know whose voice they’re hearing.” He grinned and pointed at Craig. “That’s Craig,” he explained, fingerspelling Craig’s name. “Come over here, Craig, so the audience can see your charming face.” Craig walked around to lean right in between Dan and Phil, hamming it up. Phil assumed he probably said something, because people in the chat were suddenly sending very odd messages objecting to Craig living in a cupboard under the stairs, insisting that Phil and Dan should feed him more than just moldy bread crusts, and the like. Phil shoved Craig away with a laugh, and Craig threw up his hands in a mime of innocence before returning to behind the laptop to start up his interpreting duties again.

Phil frowned at the chat, then signed, “Why is everyone asking us to go away and just let Craig do the whole live show?” Craig was clearly laughing when he provided the translation. After he’d finished interpreting Phil’s signing, he SimCommed, so that the audience could hear him off-camera but Phil could also see what he was saying, “Your audience obviously has good taste. Why are they following you losers?”

The live show with Craig’s enthusiastic and often humorously invasive help turned out so well that they decided to make it a weekly thing as often as possible, whenever Craig had the time. He was usually able to work it into his schedule, and he said that it was worth it for the ego boost of discovering that he had recently begun appearing in a number of smutty fanfiction stories on Tumblr. When Phil asked who the fans were pairing him with, Craig just grinned, and Phil chose not to investigate further because he decided he would really rather not know.

Dan relaxed more every week, each time he faced his viewers directly and spoke to them as himself instead of as a character in a story he’d carefully constructed alone in an editing room. He seemed to be becoming more **himself** , if that was possible. Phil saw it even just in how he behaved around the flat, how he carried himself, how he interacted with Phil himself. His self-confidence seemed to grow by the day.

* * *

When they announced that they would both be coming to Summer in the City, Phil wasn’t the slightest bit surprised at the overwhelming fan reaction. It would be Dan’s first convention, so he had purposely chosen the smallest one and the closest to home, but Phil knew it would probably still be a pretty extreme experience.

At the convention itself, Dan stuck close to Phil the whole time, which made sense since they were sharing an interpreter but also because Phil knew Dan must be scared half to death. He wore a brave face, though, and met quite a few of Phil’s other YouTuber friends, many of whom enthusiastically suggested collabs, but Dan always just smiled non-committally and edged a little further behind Phil.

PJ was the best, of course, just calmly telling Dan how much he enjoyed Dan’s videos and how glad he was to meet him, and suggesting that Dan just let him know if he ever wanted to work together because PJ really admired his creativity. Louise was much the same, except a bit more excitable and with more hugging. But the two of them were very sweet and patient with Dan, understanding and reassuring, and Phil hoped that Dan would leave the convention with a good impression of those two, because he thought they might be nice additions to Dan’s little growing circle of friends.

The real challenge, of course, was going to be Dan meeting his fans. He paced the lounge for hours the night beforehand, nervous about what people would think of him, what questions they would ask, even what he would **wear**.

In the morning, before they left, Dan changed his clothes five times before Phil finally just grabbed him by the arm and dragged him out of the flat to the waiting taxi.

As it turned out, most of Dan’s fans were lovely people. Mostly teenage girls, similar to Phil’s subscriber demographic, but not exclusively so. They’d arranged a joint meet-and-greet, primarily since Dan seemed to be attached to Phil by an invisible tether that would not stretch more than 20 inches or so before panic started to set in.

Some of the fans came primarily to see Phil, others primarily to see Dan, but many seemed to be fans of them both, and quite a few mentioned that they’d become addicted to the live shows and asked if Craig had come with them. This always made Dan and Phil both laugh. No, they explained, Craig didn’t consider himself a YouTuber quite yet … but give it time.

A few of Dan’s fans asked invasive questions about why he couldn’t speak, but he just politely told them that he preferred not to discuss it. An awkward silence usually followed, but Phil tried to always step in and suggest a hug or a selfie, wanting to smooth the way and make Dan’s first convention experience as easy as possible.

Most of Dan’s fans, though, treated him with nothing but respect and admiration. Over and over again, enthusiastic viewers told Dan how glad they were that he had decided to come to a convention so they could finally meet him after years of watching his videos and loving them so much. They were so happy to finally be able to tell him in person. Those ones always left Dan smiling at Phil and shaking his head in wordless emotion.

A few fans told Dan that his “big” video had made a real difference in their lives. They talked about having problems talking around people at school because of social anxiety, or having no friends, or worrying that people thought they were weird. They told him that his video made them feel better about the possibility of things getting better, that maybe they would find friends who understood them like Dan had.

One fan stood aside in private conversation with Dan and the interpreter for a bit longer than was probably fair to the other people waiting, but Dan later explained to Phil that the boy was dealing with selective mutism and so had felt a much more personal connection with Dan’s video, and Dan had wanted to give him the extra time.

Alone in their flat that night, Dan told Phil, “He said that he’d never seen his own feelings, his own struggle represented like that. He said he’d never felt like anybody understood before, and that when he watched my video, he felt like somebody out there understood him for the first time in his life.” Tears clung to Dan’s lashes when he leaned forward to kiss Phil softly, tenderly, but he was smiling when he pulled away and signed, “I know exactly how he feels.”

* * *

In the middle of a live show, the light flashed to indicate the doorbell ringing. They weren’t expecting anyone, but Phil offered to go see who it was, leaving Dan and Craig behind to continue the chat with the audience.

When he looked through the peephole, Phil saw a woman who looked familiar, like he really should know who she was, but he couldn’t place her. Still, she obviously wasn’t a stranger, so he opened the door.

She was an older woman, maybe a bit younger than his mum, and she looked terribly nervous. Phil pointed to his ears and shook his head in the gesture he usually used to communicate to strangers that he was deaf, and she nodded quickly.

Then she slowly signed a garbled version of what Phil guessed was meant to be BSL for something like “sorry” and “before.” Phil just looked at her, uncomprehending, fairly certain that her signing skills would not allow her to understand anything he might sign in response, uncertain what to do. Noticing how painfully agitated she seemed, though, he smiled, hoping to reassure her. He signed “before” again and tilted his head quizzically to show that it was a question. He wasn’t sure when they might have met, what she might be apologizing for.

But then the woman slowly, laboriously, fingerspelled “DAN” and “SON.”

Oh no! He’d only met Dan’s mum the one time, and it had been ages ago, but still … Dan’s mum had come to the door and he’d treated her like a stranger? Phil was horrified. He ushered her inside, closing the door, and led her to sit on the sofa. He mimed sipping from a cup of tea and raised his eyebrows again. Would she like some tea?

Oh! Dan must be wondering why he hadn’t come back to the live show by now!

Come to think of it, Phil wasn’t the one who should be standing here right now. Phil wasn’t the one Mrs. Howell had come to see.

He held up a finger, glanced back toward the hallway to their computer room, then looked at Mrs. Howell and slowly, carefully fingerspelled “DAN” and gestured for her to wait. She nodded gratefully, still looking as nervous as Dan had the night before his first convention appearance.

Phil bolted down the hallway to the computer room and tapped on the wall inside the doorway to get Dan’s attention. Dan looked at him, and Phil signed, “You really need to go to the lounge.”

Dan rolled his eyes. “We’re in the middle of a live show, Phil. Whatever came in the post can wait.”

Phil shook his head. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Craig’s lips moving, so he was interpreting the signed conversation for the live show viewers. Phil didn’t want to reveal anything more personal than Dan might be comfortable with, so he just signed, “You really should go. Now. **Really**.”

Dan’s face clearly showed his confusion, but he stood up and Phil slid into the chair he’d just vacated. Dan hovered in the doorway for a moment, but Phil shooed him toward the lounge, trying to communicate telepathically that this was important. Dan turned and left the room.

Phil explained to their viewers that he and Dan had an unexpected visitor, and so they were going to need to cut the show short this week, but he stayed to answer just a few more premium messages and say goodbye to some of the top fans by name, his brain whirring the entire time as he wondered what was happening out in the lounge.

When he finally ended the feed on YouNow, he immediately signed to Craig that Dan’s mum had shown up.

“Dan’s mum?” Craig asked, bewildered. “I didn’t think they got on.”

“They don’t,” Phil replied.

“I thought they hadn’t seen each other in years!” Craig continued.

“They haven’t,” Phil replied again. “That’s why this is important.”

“Okey-dokey,” Craig nodded suddenly. “I think that’s my cue to leave. Text me later to tell me what’s going on?”

Phil hesitated, then signed, “I’ll fill you in on whatever Dan’s comfortable sharing. I don’t really know what’s happening.”

Craig nodded and grabbed his messenger bag, slinging it across his body. Phil walked him to the door and then suddenly paused. Did Dan maybe need an interpreter with his mum? Her signing seemed pretty minimal. Phil asked Craig to wait a moment, then ducked his head into the lounge, where he saw Dan and his mum hugging, both in tears.

He ducked back out and sent Craig away with a hug and a promise to text soon. Not wanting to intrude, Phil slunk back to the computer room to give Dan and his mum privacy. Dan would know where to find him if he wanted him.

It was nearly half an hour later that Dan appeared in the doorway, asking Phil to come say hello to his mum, as she would really like to get to know him better.

It was like those early days of texting each other when Dan didn’t know how to sign much yet, as the three of them sat around the coffee table and took turns writing on a notepad.

Mrs. Howell had watched Dan’s videos, and the one about finding sign language had made her cry. Dan frowned, but she quickly scribbled that they had been glad tears, that she never knew how to help him but had always wanted him to be happy. She had just always felt helpless, not knowing what he needed.

Phil kept some uncharitable thoughts to himself, not wanting to sabotage this first step at reconnection by pointing out that she could have at least had written conversations like this with her son while he was growing up instead of just ignoring him for several years of his life. He felt the anger surge inside, but reminded himself that she was here now. Something had changed, and everyone deserved a second chance. Dan’s mum had taken the time to try to learn a bit of BSL, and that in itself indicated that something had shifted significantly.

By the time they had all had some tea and a long chat, Mrs. Howell seemed to grow increasingly anxious to leave. Phil wondered if perhaps her husband didn’t know where she was, as Dan’s dad had seemed unlikely to ever value any such attempts at reconciliation. Mrs. Howell wrote on the notepad to ask if she could perhaps come back to visit sometimes, if she took the train to Manchester to see them. Both Dan and Phil assured her that she would always be welcome, and she looked almost pathetically grateful.

At the door, Phil started to back away to let them say their private goodbyes, but Mrs. Howell waved him forward, then reached up to hug him gently before pulling away to look up at him with brown eyes as vulnerable as Dan’s as she signed simply, “Thank you.” He felt his anger at her drain away at that simple acknowledgment of his role in Dan’s life. Phil smiled and nodded, feeling himself start to forgive her a little.

She turned to hug Dan next, and then signed carefully to him, “I love you.”

Dan, tears in his eyes, signed, “I love you, too, mum.” And then he added, “Thank you for coming.” She might not understand all of that, but she would understand the “thank you.”

She smiled, chin quivering with emotion, obviously on the verge of sobs, then hugged Dan tight one more time before leaving abruptly through the open door, which Dan closed a moment later after watching her go. He signed to Phil, “I can hear her crying in the stairwell.”

Phil opened his arms and Dan stepped into them as naturally as if he belonged there, and by now he did. They stayed like that, just holding each other close in the wake of such an emotional evening, until Dan pulled away and looked at Phil with eyes full of wonder. “She watched my videos,” he marveled. “She actually … she actually tried to understand me. After so long. I didn’t think … I didn’t think she cared enough to even try.”

Phil brushed Dan’s fringe back and kissed his brow. “Maybe she always cared, but just didn’t know how to show it.”

Dan gazed into his eyes, expression soft and open. “You always knew,” he told Phil. “From the very first, you always knew. No one else ever had, no one else ever really tried, but you knew me from the start. You changed my life. I might not have called that video ‘I’m in Love with Phil Lester,’ but that’s the story it tells anyway. The story of how one man on the internet saved my life.”

They kissed for a long time then. Without any explicit agreement, they both started edging back toward the bedroom. Phil pulled away a moment to sign, “You saved my life, too, you know. In a different way, maybe, but you did. We saved each other.”

“Let’s go ‘save’ each other a bit more Biblically,” Dan leered, making them both laugh.

Phil mocked him. “That doesn’t make sense in English **or** in BSL!”

“Do you want to debate linguistics right now, or do you want to get rid of some clothing?” Dan pulled his shirt off over his head and disappeared through the door into the bedroom.

Sometimes, the answers in life were very, very, wonderfully, beautifully simple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again to Viviana ([@vivianadichiara](http://vivianadichiara.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr) for illustrating some moments from Dan’s important video in this chapter. I wanted readers to have some idea of what the video would look like, rather than me just describing it in words, and she did a phenomenal job.
> 
> This is the last proper chapter, so sort of the end of the fic, but an epilogue is on its way next week.


	11. Epilogue: PINOF 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a few years later, and life is good

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This epilogue is dedicated to Dani (@blackteelester on Tumblr), for reasons that will be obvious to her. :)

Viewer question: “What kind of pants does Dan wear?”

Phil signed, “Well, I assume you’re talking about the British meaning of ‘pants’”—he fingerspelled the word—“meaning underwear, since you can obviously see his black skinny jeans. So I’m going to let you in on a secret: Dan doesn’t wear briefs or boxers. Actually … Dan wears pantaloons.” He had to fingerspell “pantaloons,” too, because he had no idea if a BSL sign actually existed for the ridiculous word, but he knew viewers would find it funny in the subtitles.

Dan blanched for a moment, then reddened, then gathered his composure. He signed stiffly, “I’ll have you know they are very masculine pantaloons. With only the most laddish of ruffles.”

Phil fell over on the bed, giggling hysterically.

Dan continued, straight-faced, “In fact, right now, I’m wearing very fashion-forward silken pantaloons from the latest Alexander McQueen collection.”

Phil pulled himself upright, but his signing was loose and clumsy from all the laughing. “What color are they today?”

Dan lifted his chin majestically and fingerspelled the word “fuchsia.” He continued stoically, “If a man’s outer clothing is primarily black, he has to express the more colorful, private elements of his personality through his manly pantaloons.”

Phil completely lost control, laughing so hard that he fell off the bed, which finally broke Dan’s composure, and he suddenly burst into unrestrained giggles and collapsed back onto the duvet. Phil peeked his head up to look at Dan and signed, “Are we going to leave that in?”

Dan sat up again and rolled his eyes. “Of course, you spoon. It’s hilarious.” And they grinned at each other.

Another viewer had requested that Dan play something on the piano, but they didn’t want to haul all the camera equipment into the music room, so Phil just used his phone to film it.

This had been one of Phil’s absolute requirements when they were searching for the London flat: it had to have a room they could use as a music room, something big enough for a real piano. Sure, the primary reason for the move might be the trauma specialists and speech therapists here, but the Manchester flat had been far too small for a proper piano, so Phil had considered this supposed London “bonus” non-negotiable. And so here Dan was, playing his very own piano in his simply furnished music room with the sun streaming in through the large windows while Phil filmed him on his phone.

Phil watched Dan’s fingers, but didn’t recognize any of the patterns until suddenly he saw a familiar flow along the keys and bit back a gasp. Dan was actually playing a bit from the piece he’d been composing himself lately, which Phil would have thought too private for him to want to share with fans like this. His perfectionism meant he kept getting frustrated with it because he could never get the music to sound exactly like what he heard in his head.

Phil couldn’t hear it at all, of course, but he often rested his palms on the lid of the piano while Dan played or watched those lovely long fingers move fluidly across the keys. Even now, though, after so many years together, composing seemed like such a private creative process that he always felt honored when Dan invited him to “listen” while he worked on one of his own pieces.

Dan’s lips weren’t moving right now, so he wasn’t telling the viewers that this was his own work, but just the fact that Dan played part of his own composition for the video showed how far he’d come in his self-confidence and willingness to share himself with his audience. Phil thought back on the Dan he’d first met, the Dan he’d rescued from hiding in the corner of the Apple Store, and felt a rush of love and admiration for this beautiful, wonderful man and all he’d accomplished over the years, how comfortable he had become with simply being himself and letting it show to the world.

Of course, they could always edit this part out later if they wanted to, if Dan decided it was too much, but somehow, Phil didn’t think Dan would ask for that. He wasn’t hiding anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, it’s finally finished! Writing this story has been so incredibly informative and interesting and fun! I still have another list of info and links about sign language, Deaf culture, and stuff (including a list of d/Deaf YouTubers’ channels with short descriptions of each so you can see which ones you’re interested in checking out), which I will finish up and post sometime soon, since so many people have expressed further interest in those issues as a result of reading this story (which I find incredibly cool). Thank you to everyone who was so supportive while I was writing and posting this, with special thanks again to The Treehouse Mailing List folks, who were the first ones who convinced me this story was worth something and encouraged me to keep going.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! Please be kind in comments, as I'm still having some anxiety issues but wanted to venture into posting publicly a bit more again.
> 
> As always, I can also be found on Tumblr at [adorkablephil](http://adorkablephil.tumblr.com/) and Twitter at [stilladorkable](https://twitter.com/stilladorkable). Feel free to say hi any time!


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